


Set the World on Fire

by tomlinsonjersey



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:53:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsonjersey/pseuds/tomlinsonjersey
Summary: Two hundred and twenty four years after the end of the world, Louis finds himself setting foot above ground for the first time in his life. Alone, yet determined, he sets out to find his family, facing the horrors of a post-apocalyptic wasteland with just the gun in his hand and the clothes on his back. After six months of no luck and a heart that's losing hope, Louis meets someone who changes his fortune.Or, a Fallout 3 AU in which Louis is a vault-dweller, Harry is a wasteland savior, and the quest to find his family leaves Louis with a lot more than he bargained for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Any mistakes are my own, as this has not been edited by anyone but me. The Fallout wiki is a helpful tool if you're unfamiliar with any game-related terms used in the fic. Thank you to my wonderful friends, who've encouraged me to keep working on this over the past year. You're all angels!

His mother calls him "sunshine."

He's not entirely sure what sunshine looks like, other than what he's seen in pictures and on film. He remembers children's books, a big yellow circle drawn in the sky with a smile on its face and pointed lines sticking out all around. He's seen a 200-year old sunny day, in all its grainy black and white glory, in old propaganda films from before the war, before the bombs fell and the world that was came to a sudden halt. For the 24 years that he's been alive, he's only known the sun to be an innocuous little orb, a giver of life, a bringer of happiness.

Either way, sunshine must be a good thing, as his mother's grin stretches to her ears every time she uses the pet name on him. Her sunshine, her only sunshine, she'd always sing as she rocked him to sleep. From the night he was born, a crying baby under the dingy medical wing lights, to the day she told him they were leaving, they were finally going to escape, he was always his mother's sunshine.

However, sunshine certainly doesn't feel like a good thing when Louis sees it in person, stepping out of the vault for the very first time in his life, security hot on his heels.

He's completely blinded. Bright white overtakes his vision, sending shooting pain to his temples, dousing his body in a heat unlike anything he's ever known. His long-sleeved regulation jumpsuit, boldly marked with a yellow "28" on the chest, is suddenly sweltering. It feels like there's fire in his veins, and for the briefest moment, he considers running back inside.

Gunshots ring out behind him, booming voices scream for him to put down his weapon, and the thought disappears.

With one hand clinging to his laser pistol, the other attempting to shade his eyes from the sunshine that blinds him mercilessly, Louis runs across the hot rock and dust that is the Northern English wasteland.

The vault alarms fade in the distance the further he runs, the sounds of gunfire eventually disappear, his vision slowly acclimates to the brightness of day, but Louis doesn't stop running.

He runs over an endless expanse of brown and grey, past twisted metal and heaps of rust, past signs and fences and what's left of the eroding highway system.

Only when he realizes that his mother and sisters are nowhere to be found, nowhere to be seen across the mostly blank landscape, does he slow down, drop his pistol, and yell:

"Mum?"

\--

Hours of searching yield no results.

The Pip-Boy device attached to his forearm beeps pitifully as it searches for nearby signs of life, the viewing screen glowing as the sun begins to sink.

Louis has searched the entire area, behind boulders and under bridges, and even went as far as to retrace his steps towards the vault he had escaped from. He dared not venture too close, but from a distance he had been able to tell that the alarms were no longer blaring, and the vault door had been firmly locked shut, returned to the position it had been in for the past 200 years.

Still, no amount of searching or calling out had reunited Louis with his family.

It's his own fault, he thinks, as he slumps against a defunct lamp post, shutting off his Pip-Boy and pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jumpsuit pocket.

If he were stronger, if he were faster, he would have been able to catch up to his family right after the original breech happened. Instead, he had stayed back to hold off security in the hopes of giving them a better chance.

He thinks of the youngest twins, imagines them being carried by Lottie and his mother out into the hot sun, crying as they were dragged away from the only home any of them had known.

He thinks of his mum, the look of fear in her eyes when she told him it was time.

It had just been a few hours ago, yet to Louis it feels like a lifetime. The adrenaline, the terror of shooting a weapon at a real live human instead of a target, the pain of having an actual bullet graze his arm; Louis feels like he's aged at least five years in the course of as many hours.

Still, Louis knows that he can't rest until he's found his family, no matter how tired he is.

Stubbing out his cigarette, Louis kicks himself forward off the lamp post and keeps walking until he can't walk anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

_Six Months Later_

Louis polishes his spoon with the hem of his shirt by the light of the fire, ignoring the ache in his back and the soreness of his bum. The flat cushion he's sitting on is easily the most uncomfortable bed he's ever had, but it's better than sleeping on the cold tube station floor.

He hums along to the radio, some oldies singer crooning out a song Louis has heard hundreds of thousands of times in the past six months. It's just habit, by now.

When his spoon is reasonably clean, he yanks open his satchel and digs around. While there isn't much left to choose from, he still feels indecisive as he pulls out a can of pork 'n' beans and a rolled up bag of Weetabix.

He considers the fact that it's the last of his cereal, the box having only lasted him a few days. He knows he should hold on until he can restock, knows he should savor it, but the cereal-aholic in him takes over and he grabs his bowl and dumps out the remains.

Some powdered milk, some (hopefully) less-than-lethally irradiated water, and soon Louis is digging in. The satisfying sound of his crunching muffles out the droning from the radio, and makes it harder to hear Grimmy's voice as the song comes to a close. 

"That was _Way Back Home_ by Bing Crosby and the Bobcats," he says, "in case you have been living under a rock for your entire life and didn't already know."

Louis chuckles to himself after swallowing another spoonful of cereal.

"Honestly," Grimmy continues, "the biggest tragedy of the apocalypse is being left to play the same 10 records over and over again! Anyway," Louis can practically hear Grimmy's eyes rolling, "up next is Roy Brown's _Butcher Pete_ , so enjoy and don't forget to take your RadAway!"

Louis grimaces as the next song starts up, setting aside his mostly-empty cereal bowl and grabbing his pack. He hopes the food he's been eating hasn't been too contaminated, but everything he's eaten since leaving the vault has had that telltale metallic taste to it, so he's not quite sure.

He pulls out three empty packets of RadAway before he finds one with a little bit of solution left. It'll have to do.

Loading up the needle and taking the shot, Louis winces through the sting as the chemicals rush through his bloodstream. Fortunately, he's had lots of practice delivering intravenous medicines. He lets his mind wander as the solution settles, remembering the hours he had spent helping his mother in the vault's clinic, bandaging up scrapes for the kids and helping give the old-timers their pills. He remembers watching his mother struggle to find a useable vein in Mrs. Pennington, an old woman on her way out of this life. When his mum had finally succeeded at connecting the IV, they both watched as Mrs. Pennington drifted to sleep for the last time.

He remembers being afraid to die. Now, though, he knows there are worse fates than dying peacefully in a warm bed, surrounded by friends. Now he's afraid he'll die alone, brutally, without ever knowing the fate of his mother, his sisters, his baby brother.

Louis' thoughts are interrupted by shuffling from down the tube corridor.

He's been living in this underground station for months, having stumbled upon it when he gave up his search for his family near the vault and decided to move south. Since then it's been his home base, and he's suffered his fair share of visitors, mainly in the form of feral dogs and ghouls. Still, he knows that any day could be his last, and the idea of being ripped apart by the monsters of the wastes sends his heart rate spiking.

Leaving the radio on as a cover for the noise, Louis slinks away from the fire he's built in the middle of the platform and hides behind a pillar, loading his last few energy cells into the laser pistol that's barely managed to survive the past few months without repairs.

Louis holds his breath as the shuffling gets closer. He can't pick up any breathing, as is usually the case with feral dogs, and the average feral ghoul usually never stops howling and grunting. He hopes it's just a mutant mole rat or perhaps an oversized insect, but with Louis' luck, he doubts it.

Grimmy's voice continues to spout off on the radio, echoing off the cement walls and bouncing down the tunnels. He announces the next song, and the Glenn Miller Orchestra kicks off a jazzy rendition of _At Last_. The fire crackles loudly once, twice, and Louis tries not to imagine that his killer could be on the other side of the pillar he's hiding behind.

When he hears the sound of tin cans being knocked over, and a quiet "shit!" is blurted out by the intruder, Louis' heart jumps into his throat. He acts on instinct, spins around the pillar and points his pistol at the dark figure looming over his things.

"Oi!" he shouts. "Drop your weapons and put your hands up!"

The intruder - a man, Louis notices - squeaks and drops what Louis recognizes as his own copy of _Tumblers Today_. His hands fly up as he turns towards Louis, and the light from the fire illuminates his face.

Louis' hands tremble as he takes the man in, from his dirty boots to the messy bun that sits on the top of his head. His eyes are wide and seem black in the poor lighting of the tube station, and his fingers are visibly shaking where they poke out of his fingerless gloves. He's taller than Louis, and broader, but he looks as if he's just seen his entire life flash before his eyes. Louis can't blame him, really. Nobody likes surprises, not in the wasteland.

"What are you doing here?" Louis demands, hoping the tremors in his voice are somewhat hidden by the gentle love song playing in the background.

"I-I'm just looking," the man stammers, "just looking for parts!"

"Parts? What do you mean, parts? What kind of parts?" Louis knows the man must be looking for weapons and ammo, same as Louis has been doing for the past six months, but he's so completely shocked to see another human that he can't quite figure out what exactly he should say.

"Anything," the man says. "I look for scraps, for tech, anything! Please don't shoot me!" His voice, though deep, jumps a few octaves when he pleads.

"Quiet!" Louis hisses, nervously rocking from foot to foot. His inclination is to believe the man, but his head is fuzzy and his heart is pounding and dammit, he didn't even know there were other people still alive out here! "Have you got any weapons?"

The man nods. "In my bag, and in the holster." He nods again, this time towards the belt that is resting snug against his hips.

Louis looks closer, feeling his heart return to a semi-normal pace of beating. The stranger isn't lying; there is definitely an old-school pistol tucked into a holster on his right side, and he can see what looks to be the barrel end of a rifle sticking out of the top of his backpack. There are also multiple purses slung across his chest, Louis notices, although he's not sure what their purpose is. He doubts the man is trying to make any fashion statements, but, stranger things, and all that.

"What else do you have on you?" Louis asks, lowering his gun slightly, but not entirely.

"Just scrap metal, a few batteries, ammo, some food-"

"Alright," Louis stops him. "I get it. Listen-"

"Harry," the stranger supplies.

"Right. Harry. Listen, I-"

Both of them stop talking as a series of howls interrupt their encounter. The hairs on Louis' arms and the back of his neck stand at full attention. He knows that noise, absolutely.

"Ghouls," he whispers.

Harry is immediately three steps further away than he was before, though his arms are still raised. Louis re-aims his pistol on the stranger.

"Hold it," he demands, his voice a harsh whisper. Another series of howls rings out, and Louis regrets not switching off the radio before. The love song has ended and Grimmy is chattering away, likely drawing the ghouls in, but Louis refuses to turn his back to the stranger for even a second.

"I'm sorry I intruded," Harry says as he continues to move back incrementally, "but I really must be going."

"But!" Louis quickly runs through excuses to keep the stranger in place in his head. He is untrusting, and he's scared, but maybe Harry knows where other people are. Maybe he's seen-

More screeching, and grunting. The ghouls are surely just around the bend, soon to descend on Louis' hideaway.

"Come with me," Harry blurts, and Louis swallows hard.

It's a huge risk. Harry might kill him, or worse.

Still, between another living human and a pack of glowing, flesh-dripping mutants, the choice is somewhat easy.

"Okay."

Louis puts down his gun, grabs his pack, and shovels in what he can before he takes off after Harry. As they ascend the platform steps and break out above ground, Grimmy's laughter is drowned out by the howling of the feral ghouls.

\--

Louis follows Harry through the dark.

The sky is cloudy, as it almost always is, but there is enough moonlight to make out the semi-worn trail Harry is following, a faint path through the dirt that leads them up and over the rolling hills.

Harry had told him, once they were a safe distance from the underground station, that he had a hideaway nearby. Whether from the loneliness that's followed him for the past few months, or the desperate need to find his family, Louis had agreed to follow, only a little reluctantly, although they had walked in silence since then.

Their voices seem to carry through the dead of night, and Louis would rather pass quietly by whatever's lurking unnoticed.

"It's just ahead," Harry states after nearly an hour of walking, breaking the silence.

"Finally," Louis says through a yawn. Harry looks back over his shoulder, the slightest sign of a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Past your bedtime, vault boy?" he asks smugly.

Louis' eyes go wide. How did Harry know? His regulation jumpsuit, once a crisp royal blue that fit him like a glove, had long since been faded, shredded, and eventually discarded. Is it possible that Vault 28's overseer had sent someone for him, had sent Harry to-

"I noticed your Pip-Boy," Harry says, and the terror that was building in Louis' heart deflates and seeps out through his feet.

"This old thing?" Louis turns his forearm in the dim moonlight, the little buttons and dials glinting. He flicks the switch that illuminates the screen and checks his vitals just for the sake of seeing his pulse flash on the screen. Yep, he's still alive.

"I love them," Harry says, slowing down to match Louis' pace so they're walking side by side. "Always wanted one. I was born in the wastes, though, so no such luck."

"Born? Out here?" Louis can't imagine.

"Yep. My sister and I both. Sometimes I think that's why I'm so obsessed with tech. I grew up in a shack, surrounded by rusty tin and tools made of twigs. Everything about vaults is so cool," he chuckles, "all the wires and machinery and _computers_."

"Well it's not all it's cracked up to be," Louis replies more bitterly than he intends to, causing Harry to snap his mouth shut. Louis almost feels bad, but is relieved that Harry seems to pick up on the red flags surrounding all vault-centric conversation.

"I'm sorry," Harry says after a few moments of walking in tense silence.

Louis shrugs and flicks off the light of his Pip-Boy. "It doesn't matter."

Harry looks like he has something more to say, but their arrival at his hideout stops him. It's nothing fancy, just a small wooden one-room cabin, but Louis instantly feels safer the moment they step inside.

There's a wooden worktop table pushed against the wall, covered in dust, and a single bed in the corner. There's a refrigerator with a rusted handle which, to Louis' surprise, is humming quietly.

"This thing works?" he asks as he sets down his bag and makes his way over.

"Yep," Harry replies. "'ve got a generator set up to keep it going. Also powers this," he turns on the light, "and this," he says as he flicks on a standing oscillating fan, which rattles to life and begins to blow cool air into the stuffy room.

"No way," Louis says in awe as he races over. He sticks his face in front of the fan and lets out a single droning note, listening to it reverberate through the spinning fan blades. It gets a laugh out of Harry. "I can't remember the last time I did this," he says, the words distorted by the fan.

"Well, enjoy. There's also cold Nuka Cola in the fridge. You can take the bed, as well." Harry tugs a rolled sleeping bag out of his backpack as Louis stands upright.

"Seriously?" he asks as Harry lays out his roll.

"Seriously," Harry smiles without looking up, long fingers working the jammed zipper on his sleeping bag. "Your setup back at the station didn't look too comfy. I can go a night on the floor."

Louis feels his heart open just slightly at the kindness he's offered. It reminds him of home, of having someone to watch over him, someone who cares. He walks back to the fridge, pulls out a cold drink, pops the cap and sits down on the edge of the bed. It's a little firm, but springy enough that Louis bounces.

"The bottle cap's mine though," Harry says with a smirk when he looks up.

"The bottle cap?"

"Yeah. The cap. The universally accepted currency among all the traders? You seriously didn't use bottle caps in the vault?"

Louis looks down at the Nuka Cola cap in his hand, slightly bent from being pried off the bottle. "... no?"

Harry laughs. Clearly Louis has a lot to learn.

As they settle in for the night, Louis silently mourning the stack of bottle caps he'd left piled up back at the station, Harry locks the door and turns out the light.

"Goodnight," he says, his voice deep and crackly, as if he's on the edge of sleep.

"Goodnight," Louis replies. He closes his eyes, listening to the calming sound of the fan, before he realizes. "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Louis. My name's Louis."

A moment passes before Harry says anything more, but Louis can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks.

"Goodnight, Louis."

"Goodnight, Harry."

\--

When morning comes, Louis wakes to a gentle nudging against his shoulder. He considers the possibility that he's dreaming, but as the nudging becomes more insistent, he jolts upright and reaches for his pistol.

Of course, his pistol isn't where it's supposed to be, as he's not in his hideout; he's at Harry's, and he relaxes when his brain registers the eager smile on the man in front of him.

"Jesus, Harry," he says, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," Harry says through a laugh. In the light of day, Louis realizes that Harry's eyes are a pale, glassy green. He's never seen anything so green in his life. He recalls pictures of trees and flowers in the books he read as a kid, and wonders if they would look anything like Harry's eyes in real life. "You've been sleeping for ages, I was worried you might be dead."

"How long have I been out?" Louis asks. He feels bone tired, despite getting the first real night of sleep he's had in ages.

"About 10 hours," Harry says, tapping the face of the watch that adorns his bony wrist.

"Christ," Louis says, dropping back against the pillow. "Five more minutes, mum."

Harry laughs again, a low chuckle that resonates in Louis' bones.

"For the record, I've got some squirrel stew warmed up and a stash of Fancy Ladies, if you're hungry."

On cue, Louis' stomach practically roars, and after a bit of stretching, he joins Harry on the stools in front of the worktop.

"For you," Harry says as he passes a bowl of stew and two packages of snack cakes. "I warmed the stew up on the fire earlier. Looks like it'll be a nice day."

Louis hums as he takes the first bite, and groans as the flavors explode on his tongue. He hasn't had real meat in months, and the roach meat he had then hardly counts. "Harry, this is divine!"

Harry only blushes as he pushes around the soup in his bowl, his grin so wide that a dimple the size of a moon crater appears under his cheek. Louis feels a surge of warmth rush through his entire body, but chalks it up to the stew settling in his stomach.

"So," Louis says between bites, "tell me about yourself, Harold."

"First off, my name's not Harold," Harry says almost indignantly. "Just Harry."

"As you wish, Just Harry," Louis teases. It gets another dimpled smile out of Harry, so Louis considers it a win.

"Well, like I said, I was born in the wasteland, 22 years ago, and was raised in Stone City. It's a place not far from here, actually. I still live there most of the time, when I'm not scavenging for parts. It's a pretty good size city, around 150 people I'd say."

"That's a good size city? Just 150 people?" Louis asks. "Our vault had 300, at one point."

"It's harder to keep people together out here, I think," Harry says wistfully, rubbing his chin. "People don't live as long either. Bigger establishments tend to attract raiders and slavers, anyway, so a lot of people don't stick around."

"Makes sense," Louis says as he watches Harry push a stray hair behind his ear. "You said you have a sister?"

"Right!" Harry's eyes light up immediately, and he drops his spoon in favor of using both hands to gesture wildly as he talks. "Gemma! She's amazing. She's older than me, but she's my best friend. She's even better with tech than I am, I swear, she can fix anything, any time, any place."

Louis smiles fondly as Harry talks about his sister, sees the adoration in his eyes when he explains how she was able to get an old junk car running - _actually running!_ \- and Louis can't help but think of his own sisters.

"I've got sisters too, you know. Five of them. All younger."

"That's amazing!" Harry nearly shouts. "Five? I can't imagine."

"Five sisters and one brother. There's Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe and Daisy are the older twins, and Doris and Ernie are the younger twins."

" _Two_ sets of twins?!" Harry exclaims. "That's incredible!"

Both of them break into laughter as Louis nods. "I know. We're quite the bunch."

"And how old are you?"

"Hmm, guess," Louis prompts. Harry scratches his chin as he ponders, takes a long moment to look Louis up and down. Louis tries not to squirm.

"I'd say... 20."

"Wrong!" Louis laughs. "Guess again."

"21?"

"No! Come on, you can do better than that."

"Fine!" Harry huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "22."

"Terrible," Louis says through a giggle and shakes his head. "24."

"No," Harry says, eyes going wide with genuine shock, "you're lying! You've aged so well!"

Louis preens a bit, cheeks going hot. "Oh, stop."

"I'm serious!" Harry says, batting at Louis' arm playfully. "Must have something to do with growing up under ground, instead of out in the sun all day."

"Maybe it's just all the dirt I've got caked on me since leaving the place. It's hiding my crow's feet." Both of them chuckle again as Louis dramatically scrubs at the outside corner of his eye.

"Oh, now I'm seeing it," Harry says playfully. "You look absolutely ancient. Should just skip out on washing your face from now on."

"Oi!" Louis answers, leaning over to pinch at Harry's side, which sends them both into a fit of laughter once again.

"So," Harry asks as their laughter dies down, "what about your parents?" He seems a little subdued, like he's afraid to ask, but genuinely interested. Louis feels his own face fall slightly at the question.

"My dad died when I was pretty young. I don't remember much about him, but I know it was hard on me mum. She met someone new not long after, although when we left..."

Louis doesn't know when he let his guard down so much for Harry, but he can feel the walls coming back up when he thinks back to the vault, the overseer, the relationship said overseer had had with his mother. He remembers the abuse, the anger, the sadness, and he wants nothing but to keep it buried.

"Louis," Harry tries after a few moments. Louis sees his hand reach out almost instinctively, but Harry catches himself almost as quickly.

"It doesn't matter. Mum, she's out here somewhere with my sisters, and they're all I've got. I've been trying to find them for months."

When Louis looks up, Harry's brows are knitted and he's toying with his bottom lip, pinching it between two fingers as he ponders.

"You know, it's possible they might have made their way to the city. I don't know where your vault was, but if you've made it this far, maybe they did too? I haven't been home in a while to see if there are any new visitors, but maybe?" Harry lets his voice fade out, clearly waiting for Louis to react.

There are days when Louis feels completely hopeless, is sure that his family is dead and gone. He's tired of running, tired of searching, and more than once he's considered lying down and not getting back up. Regardless, the embers of hope still burn in his chest, and the idea of his mum, his girls and his baby brother, living safe in a city, with a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, is more than enough for him.

"You really think they might be there?"

"They could be," Harry says as he nods, a hopeful look on his face.

Louis knows it's a lot to ask of a stranger, but he can't help himself. "Do you think you could take me there?"

Rather than scoff, or telling him to go alone, Harry cracks another wide smile, so wide his eyes become slits above his cheeks.

"Of course, I'd be honored."

Louis can't resist the urge to jump up from his stool and pull Harry into a hug. They've met less than 24 hours ago, but the thought of seeing his family fills Louis with uncontainable joy, and by the way Harry pulls him close, he has a feeling that joy is contagious.

"Thank you, thank you so much Harry."


	3. Chapter 3

With cold Nuka Cola's in hand, Louis and Harry begin their trek to Stone City. According to Harry, it's about a two day hike with plenty of places to restock and rest along the way.

As they walk, Harry and Louis chat with ease. Louis realizes that for the first time since leaving the vault, he feels hopeful. His cheeks actually hurt from smiling.

"Surely you've seen Brahmin," Harry says as they walk through a field of stubbly brown grass. "They're about this tall, moo, have two heads?"

"Two heads?! You're having me on."

"Seriously!" Harry exclaims, nearly hysterical with how hard he's laughing. "I shit you not, two heads. They're totally harmless, just graze all day, but the burgers are delicious."

"What's a burger?"

Louis didn't think Harry's jaw could drop any further, but he's proven wrong when Harry stops dead in his tracks, mouth gaping.

"You- what's a- seriously?!"

They keep on with their banter for hours and Louis soaks up the scenery. The further south they go, the more level the landscape becomes. Rolling hills become wide open plains, and the skeletal system of roads and highways becomes denser. They're traveling along the gray pavement of a two-way street when they come across the grocery store Harry says he frequently visits.

"There's not a whole lot left, but it's a good place to grab a few backup cans of beans."

"That's more than I can say for the shop I was using back near the vault," Louis says, remembering the bare shelves and shattered windows. "Although you might've spoiled me this morning with your squirrel stew. Not sure if pork 'n' beans can cut it anymore, Harold."

Harry grins as he pulls open the front door of the grocery for Louis. "Well, we'll see what we can find. After you," he gestures, and Louis trots in.

Like the vast majority of the buildings in the wasteland, there's no power. The inside of the store is a murky brown, the only light coming in through the dust-covered windows. Louis can see dust particles floating in the air, and has to step carefully over discarded tin cans and broken glass milk bottles.

He doesn't mind, though, when he sees shelves lined with boxes of Mac and Cheese and stacked high with bowls of instant noodles.

"God bless," he says as he begins stuffing his bag.

"Only take what you need," Harry gently reminds him as he waltzes past, towards the pharmacy section. "Other people in the wastes need food too."

"Such an humanitarian," Louis chuckles.

He almost chokes when he spies an entire shelf full of Sugar Bombs.

"Dreams do come true!" Louis cries as he picks up an arm-full of the sugary cereal boxes. He dumps the instant noodle cups out of his bag and hastily replaces them with Sugar Bombs.

"Sugar fiend!" Harry calls out from the other aisle.

"You know, I have yet to find one of those decoder rings they promote on the back of the box." Louis considers tearing all of the boxes open and digging until he finds one, but wasting all this sugary goodness is too grave a sin.

"I don't think they actually exist," Harry says, coming back up the aisle. He holds a few pill containers in his hand, offering them up to Louis. "RadX?"

"Thanks," Louis says as he grabs the containers and drops them in his pack. He knows RadX is meant to boost tolerance to radiation, had taken them plenty of times as a kid whenever the vault's aeration system went wonky, but he hopes he won't have to take them again any time soon. "These things give me a killer stomach ache."

"Me too," Harry says. "Got everything you need?"

Louis takes one last glance back at the Sugar Bombs section before sighing. "Alright, lead the way."

"Don't worry, _sugar_ , they'll still be here if you ever need to come back for more."

Louis definitely does not blush at the nickname-slash-sugar cereal pun, but he definitely does shove Harry as they make their way out of the abandoned grocery and back out into the waste.

The rest of their day is somewhat uneventful, and by the time the sun is beginning to set, Louis' legs are screaming for a break.

"It's not my fault your legs are so short," Harry teases as they close in on a small neighborhood, long abandoned.

"Very funny, you giant oaf," Louis says. "I'm just not used to long distances. I'm still faster than you."

"Is that so?" Harry challenges.

"It is so!" Louis says, and before Harry can retort, Louis takes of at a full sprint towards the houses. He can hear Harry come galloping up behind him as he nears the closest house and can't help the giddy laughter that comes pouring out as Harry catches up to him. "I win!"

"Wrong house," Harry says, panting, "but nice try though. This one's locked."

"Locked, schmocked," Louis says as he pulls a bobby pin out of his pocket and jams it in the key hole. "You're talking to the master of sneaking out, after all. I've been doing it for as long as I could walk. 

The front door to the house clicks open as the word "walk" leaves his mouth. He's silently thankful that he hasn't made a fool of himself in front of Harry, although he's unsure as to why he cares.

"Alright, alright," Harry relents. "You win, Lou."

Louis blushes at the nickname, but quickly covers it up. "That's Master Louis, to you. Breaker of locks, King of Speed-"

"Eater of sugary cereals, yes, I know." Harry pinches his side as he steps past him and into the house.

\--

As Harry unpacks food for the both of them, Louis pulls out his laser pistol and wipes it down with a rag he found in the kitchen. His gun's seen better days, he thinks while Harry flits around the dining room, but there's not a whole lot he can do about it. The slot where the energy cells are inserted is a bit jammed, and Louis is having trouble removing the cached cartridge when he feels Harry lean in behind him, placing his hands on either side of him on the table.

"Need help?" he asks, his breath right against Louis' neck. Louis suppresses a shiver, but scoffs as he pulls his pistol close to his chest.

"Not a chance. Nobody gets to touch Lucy but me."

"Lucy?" Harry asks, moving from his position behind Louis and pulling up a chair.

"That's right. Lucy. She's my girl, and she's lucky. No touchy."

"Interesting," Harry muses as he brandishes a packet of crisps, munching away thoughtfully. "You know, I have quite a bit of experience with laser weapons. Got a laser rifle back home, myself."

"Do you now?" Louis muses, already knowing that he's going to let Harry help. He keeps up the charade a bit longer just for the fun of it.

"Mhm," Harry answers, "and the cartridges used to get stuck in mine, as well."

Harry sticks his hand out knowingly, and Louis relents. 

"Just don't break her," Louis says, stealing the crisps away from Harry as he works.

They sit in silence as Harry tinkers, and Louis watches closely, hoping to learn. His short attention span gets the better of him, however, and he finds himself speaking before he has a chance to think.

"You never mentioned your own parents, just your sister."

Harry freezes at that, his relaxed expression drawing up tight. Louis wants to take the words back, somehow had a feeling that it was a closed subject, but with his own mother on his mind he just opened his mouth and-

"They're dead," he answers simply, and begins working again.

Louis accepts that as the end of the conversation, but Harry speaks again.

"Raiders. They attack Stone City sometimes. I lost my dad when I was 10, and my mum just two years ago." Harry looks down at his hands and Louis feels his heart lodging in his throat, preventing any words of comfort from coming out. "Feels like yesterday, if I'm honest."

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Harry," Louis says. His own eyes well up with tears. There are a lot of terrible ways to go out here, but taken by raiders...

"I don't know what happened to her, but I know she's gone now. I kind of felt it after they took her, like one day I knew she was near and the next, it was just... nothing. Gemma felt it too."

Harry's hands have stopped moving again, just hovering over Louis' gun, and his eyes are focused on a spot in the table. Louis knows it's selfish to cry, but he can't stop the small sob that crawls up and out of his throat.

"I'm sorry," Louis says as Harry looks up. He wipes away the few tears that have escaped, leaning his face away from Harry in a pathetic attempt to hide.

"Louis," Harry says, and Louis feels a warm hand resting on his shoulder, traveling down his arm until fingers encircle his wrist. "Louis, look at me."

Louis looks back to Harry, blinking the last of his tears away, and sees Harry's eyes shining as well.

"Lou, your family is still out there, okay? If you're still looking, if you still feel it, they're out there."

Louis heart breaks at the sincere look on Harry's face, the absolute selflessness and kindness in his expression. Of course Harry is worried about Louis' feelings in the middle of a conversation about his own mother dying.

"Oh, Harry," he says, and leans forward to draw the taller man into a hug. Harry's let his hair down, and Louis buries his face in it, reveling in the softness that is this strange boy he's found. "Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry hugs him back just as tight, and after a few moments of holding each other, they both lean back in their chairs. Louis lets out a watery laugh, which causes Harry to chuckle as well.

After a moment of recomposing, Harry finishes up his work on Louis' laser pistol and hands it back to him.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Lou."

"Yeah," Louis agrees, and finds that somehow, he believes it.

\--

The house Louis so expertly broke into has three bedrooms total, but at Louis' insistence, they both stay in the room with two beds. It's not that he's scared, per se, but knowing that Harry is close by makes it easier for Louis to relax. Harry doesn't question it, though, so Louis doesn't have to explain himself and when night falls, they settle in.

Louis wishes Harry a goodnight, and is out before he can even hear the younger man's response.

For the first time in months, Louis dreams.

He dreams of Phoebe and Daisy, taking turns braiding each other's hair. He dreams of Lottie, who unexplainably has blue hair and a bright pink vault jumpsuit. He dreams of Fizzy, resting her head in Louis' lap as she explains how she took a walk in a forest, talked to the birds, and swam in a lake.

Before he can dream anything else, he's jerked out of sleep and opens his eyes to the pale blue of dawn seeping in through the windows.

"Louis!" Harry whispers urgently.

"It's rude to wake someone up before sunrise, Haz," Louis says as he rolls over.

"Shh!" Harry hisses. "Get down!"

Louis' heart jumps in his chest as he rolls back over to face Harry and realizes he's on the ground, gesturing with his hands to get low. Louis scrambles out of bed and flattens himself against the floor, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

"What?" he mouths.

"Raiders," Harry whispers, and sure enough, a wave of laughter comes floating up through the window from outside. They're on the second floor, Louis' sleep-addled brain supplies, so hopefully they haven't been spotted. It doesn't seem like they have been, as the strange voices continue to chatter outside.

Louis notices Harry gesturing for him to come closer, so he scoots as quietly as he can to Harry's side of the room.

"Look," Harry whispers once Louis is close enough, pointing to a crack in the wooden paneling of the walls. Through it, Louis can see two burly men and three women, standing in a circle outside the front door.

The men are carrying what seem to be a sledgehammer and a baseball bat loaded with nails. Both are tall and muscular, with shaved heads and grimaces on their faces. The women are clad in scant armor, bellies and shoulders exposed, but are all armed with guns.

"Shit," Louis breathes. "What do we do?"

"Listen," Harry says, and Louis strains to hear their voices.

"Last time we hit the city I got three new guns and enough ammo to last a year," one of the women is saying as she twirls the end of her pigtail between her fingers.

"Well I got three new whores," one of the men says, and they all break out into laughter once more.

"If we go tonight, we can probably get further than we did last time. There aren't any traders scheduled to be out front, and there are fewer guards at night." The woman speaking seems to be the leader of the group, as everyone else nods.

"Tonight it is, then," the third woman says.

"We've got to stop them," Harry whispers next to Louis. "They're talking about raiding Stone City again."

Louis nods. If there's any chance his family is in Stone City, he can't let these raiders attack. He distantly thinks he would fight the raiders anyway, just for Harry's sake. "What's the plan?"

"I've got something that might work."

They army crawl to the hallway, Harry dragging his pack along with him. When they're out of range of the bedroom windows, Harry stands up and begins pulling wires out of his bag.

"A trap?" Louis asks.

"Right. A tripwire." Harry takes the wires to the far end of the hallway, right in front of the stairs, and runs a single string back to the end of the hallway. He pulls his rifle out of his bag and ties the string to the trigger, mounting it to a bannister with a vice. "If one of them comes upstairs this should go off."

"Should?"

"I've used it once before," Harry says, turning a little red. "It didn't work, but I think I know what went wrong."

"Right," Louis answers, trying not to overreact. "Right."

"Just trust me," Harry says. "Go down the hall and hide in the bathroom. I'll be at this end with my pistol. The rifle will only take one of them down, but that gives us a better chance."

"Right," Louis says, and he's shaking and he's sweating but he believes in the calm of Harry's voice. "Okay. How do we get them up here?"

"I've got it covered," Harry says, sending Louis down the hallway with a gentle push.

Louis ducks into the bathroom, leaving the door open and giving him a clean shot into the hallway. He's at a close enough range that his pistol should do some actual damage, although he figures it's too late to worry about it now. 

Just as he loads up his pistol and straightens it out in front of him, he hears a shot.

He prays the shot came from Harry, and figures his answer comes when one of the women outside screams.

"What the fuck?!" he hears one of the men bellow. There's an immediate explosion of gunfire, and Louis isn't sure which way it's coming from, but hopes that if they're still shooting, Harry's still okay.

He hardly has time to worry about Harry before he hears footsteps stomping up the stairs. One of the men, he realizes, is yelling obscenities and is about to step in front of the bathroom when-

BOOM! A tremendous shot shakes the walls and Louis hears the sound of a body thudding against the ground.

"It worked!" Louis hears Harry shout from the end of the hall. Thank God.

"It worked," Louis breathes, totally in awe but relieved nonetheless. He composes himself and prepares for the real fight.

Sure enough, there are more footsteps coming up the stairs. Louis prepares to shoot, but the other man flies right past the bathroom door before he even has a chance. The woman right behind him, however - the one with the pigtails - stops right in front of Louis, her gaze locked down the hall towards where Louis can hear the sounds of a shuffle.

She lifts her rifle and takes aim, but Louis pulls his own trigger before she has the chance. His laser pistol shoots off a beam of hot red light, hitting her dead on, and her body goes up in a pile of ash and smoke.

Louis yelps and looks at his gun in amazement. He's definitely never seen it do that before; he makes a mental note to thank Harry if they survive.

The final woman stops in front of Louis, but his element of surprise is gone. She's facing him dead on, a scowl on her face as she turns her tommy gun on him. Louis shoots his pistol and, of course, misses.

"Fuck!" he screams, but just as the woman is about to fire, she drops dead, falling into a heap on the hallway floor.

"Louis!" Harry screams, and Louis hears him bound down the hallway before he's in the bathroom, collecting Louis in his arms and cradling him to his chest. "Louis, are you okay?"

Louis is breathing rapidly, but sinks into the comfort of Harry's arms, wrapping his arms around the taller man's middle. Miraculously, Louis doesn't cry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he manages to get out when his nerves have stopped screaming and his ability to make words returns. "Are you?"

Harry pulls back, resting his hands on Louis' shoulders and giving him a once-over instead of taking Louis' word for it. When he's satisfied, he answers.

"I got hit with the baseball bat, but I'll be alright. 'S not too bad."

Louis scowls and tugs on one unbuttoned side of Harry's flannel shirt, urging him to remove it and reveal the injury. Harry complies, wincing as he moves his arm back enough to allow the shirt to come off. Underneath, the sleeve of Harry's white t-shirt is soaked with blood, and Louis gasps.

"Shit, Harry, your arm's mauled!"

"It's not terrib-" Harry breaks off in a wince when Louis rotates his arm to get a better look.

"Alright, come on," Louis says, turning Harry to sit down on the toilet. He begins to dig through the medicine cabinet, looking for anything of use.

"What all did you grab from the pharmacy when we were there, Harry?"

Harry closes his eyes and furrows his brows, trying to remember what supplies they have. "There should be some bandages and pain killers, but mostly I got things for radiation poisoning."

"It'll have to do," Louis says as he steps out into the hall and makes his way back to the bedroom. He tries to ignore the bodies on the floor.

When he returns to the bathroom with Harry's pack, he dumps the contents on the floor and begins working.

"We can't stay long, Lou," Harry says as Louis cleans the punctures in his arm. "Others probably heard the gunfire."

"We can stay long enough for me to fix this. It won't take long." Louis' voice comes out calmer than he expects it to, and figures his practice in the vault clinic must be kicking in. "How are you with needles?"

"I'm fine with needles," Harry says with a small grin, rolling his eyes. "I have a tattoo, you know."

"A what? Never mind, no time for questions now. Are you ready?" he asks as he pulls a needle out of his own sewing kit, tying some dental floss to one end.

"Ready," Harry says, and Louis does what needs to be done.

Less than half an hour later, they've gathered their things, taken the guns from the raiders, and are on the road again.

\--

Morning turns to afternoon, and their journey goes without any further major hiccups.

They stop every so often, giving their tired feet a break, and Louis checks on Harry's wounds. Each time he switches out the bandages, his heart beats a little harder with the effort it takes to control his shaking fingers as they graze over Harry's skin. His arms, usually covered up to prevent excessive radiation and sun damage, are pale and petal soft, a sharp contrast to the tan and calloused skin of his hands.

Shortly after noon, when they've paused to switch out Harry's bandages once again, Louis is tossing the old blood-soaked rags away when Harry grabs his arm and spins him around.

"You said you've never seen a tattoo?"

Louis nods, unsure of what Harry's talking about. He tries to tame the look of confusion on his face when Harry goes to lift his shirt up, exposing his bare chest. The confusion quickly turns into something much more embarrassing, as Louis' eyes graze over Harry's firm pectorals, his tight abdominal, and-

"What the fuck is that?" Louis exclaims, pointing with his index finger, brows raised clear to his hairline. Harry only laughs.

"It's a tattoo," Harry says, "a tattoo of a butterfly, specifically."

"The fuck's a butterfly?" Louis asks, reaching forward to touch it without thinking. Harry's stomach flutters underneath his hand, but he can't help but trace the thick black inked lines with his fingertips. "It feels like regular skin," he almost whispers.

"It is regular skin, it's just been inked with a needle," Harry explains. "M'friend back home is an artist, and drew this up for me using a book he found about insects from the pre-war era."

"You mean there's more than just roaches?" Louis asks, incredulously. "If these butterfly things are anything like roaches, I can't imagine wanting to have one on my body."

"I think they're beautiful," Harry says as Louis drops his hand, pulling his shirt back down. "I've got another one, not quite so showy, but..."

Harry pulls down the collar of his t-shirt, exposing his shoulder just above his injury. A simple letter "A" stands out in stark contrast to his milky white skin, black lines delicate yet bold.

"It's for Anne, my mother," Harry says quietly. Louis glances from the tattoo up to Harry's face, noticing the softness in his eyes.

"It's beautiful," Louis says. "They're both beautiful."

"Thanks," Harry replies, fixing his collar and nervously running his fingers through his hair.

"How long does it take for those to wear off?" Louis asks lightly.

Harry just laughs.

\--

"We're getting close," Harry says as he pulls his hair into a bun on the top of his head. The sun is hanging low in the sky, ever obscured by the yellowish haze of dust and pollution. It's sinking fast, but the suffocating heat of the long summer day remains.

"How close?" Louis asks, dabbing sweat from his forehead with the bandana slung around his neck.

"Just a few more hours," Harry answers, wincing as he finishes off the bun and lowers his arms. Louis can tell by the tension in his brow that he's in pain, just too cheery by nature to admit it. "We could probably make it there a little after dark if we don't stop."

"We haven't eaten yet," Louis retorts, "and you need a break. If you push it too hard you'll feel miserable tomorrow, and at the rate we're sweating you could get an infection as well. We need to clean it," he gestures to Harry's arm.

The taller man nods, his eyes considering the landscape around them. Louis is thankful that Harry is so agreeable; if the roles were reversed, Louis knows he would put up a fight. 

"Maybe we should go ahead and set up camp, although there aren't any more houses or barns between here and the city."

"Is it safe to sleep out in the open?" Louis asks.

"I think it should be fine," Harry replies. "I've never run into anything serious in this stretch, but I do have a tent so we're not totally exposed. If we set it up between those hills over there," he points, "we should have enough cover."

"Fair enough," Louis says, and they make their way over the hills towards the valley.

As Harry begins setting up the tent, Louis builds a fire with practiced ease. There's enough kindling around, the brown grass and dry twigs of dead shrubs plenty flammable, and Louis' flint and steel gets it burning in no time.

When he turns around to see Harry's progress with the tent, he freezes, one eyebrow arched as he waits for an explanation.

"It's a bit small," Harry says sheepishly when he notices Louis staring.

"A _bit_?" Louis can't keep the playful bite out of his voice as he takes in the one-man tarp-and-stick shelter, barely tall enough to contain a full grown man and certainly too narrow for two to sleep comfortably.

"Usually it's just me," Harry explains, "and I've been using it since I was a kid. I guess it's time for an upgrade..." his voice fades out as he scratches the back of his head with one hand, his feet shuffling from side to side. Louis can't help but notice how adorable he looks.

"Well, it's better than nothing," Louis assures with a smile. "Not your fault you can't predict the future. I doubt young Harold would have ever imagined having to share a tent with a total stranger. Especially one with an arse as big as mine," he jokes.

He pointedly ignores the way Harry's face reddens as he turns back to the fire, stacking a few more twigs around it, his own face warming.

They settle in for dinner as the sky turns purple, blue, then black, sharing a pot of warmed beans and a bag of crisps. They talk easily about nothing and everything, and listen to the sounds of the waste around them. There's a gentle breeze that whistles through the valley, and the sound of dogs howling is far away enough that they don't need to worry. Still, it reminds Louis of where they are.

No matter how comfortable he feels by Harry's side, shoulders pressed together as they keep warm by the fire, Louis doesn't let his guard down.

When the fire burns low, just embers in the dark, Harry stands and moves to hold the bottom flap of the tent open.

"After you," he says through a yawn.

Louis rolls his eyes, but crawls inside, worming his way under the sleeping bag that's been unzipped and laid flat. The ground is scratchy underneath, dead grass rubbing at his exposed ankles and forearms, but with only one sleeping bag between the two of them, Louis' thankful Harry is even sharing at all.

Louis balls up his flannel shirt and stuffs it under his head as Harry scoots in beside him. He tries not to feel nervous at having another person so close. Of course, he fails, feeling his heart beating loudly in his ears, but he rolls on his side and relaxes anyway.

"This alright?" Harry asks when they're both settled. Louis can feel Harry pressed against his back, although he's clearly trying to keep his distance. His folded arms jab into Louis' back uncomfortably, and Harry feels noticeably stiff behind him.

"Relax," Louis says, his voice coming out unexpectedly coy despite his exhaustion.

Harry laughs nervously, but breathes a soft "okay."

Louis nearly flinches when the tension eases out of Harry, the taller man bending his knees to fit in behind Louis' and his arms coming to rest gently around Louis' side.

It's certainly more comfortable than elbows lodged between his vertebrae, Louis thinks.

"Goodnight, Louis," Harry breathes against the back of his neck.

"Goodnight," Louis answers weakly. He prays Harry won't be able to feel how shallowly he's breathing, but after a few moments, he's snoring.

The nervousness fades from Louis as tiredness comes in to take its place, and Louis allows himself to relax in Harry's arms. It feels like home, Louis thinks, just as he falls into a deep sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis wakes to the feeling of lips pressed to his neck and a hand resting firm against his belly.

His stomach swoops and all the blood in his body redistributes so quickly he's left feeling dizzy.

He can't help but push back into Harry's grip, nestling his bum against the front of Harry's pelvis, and all the air escapes him when he's met with an insistent hardness. The hand on his belly clenches briefly when Harry murmurs something unintelligible behind him.

"What?" Louis half whispers, half moans as he swirls his hips just slightly.

Harry sucks in a deep breath and exhales loudly before murmuring again, another string of nonsense groaned directly into his skin.

Louis furrows his brows and turns his head, trying to understand. He freezes when he's met with the sight of a sleeping Harry, eyes clinched shut and a string of drool hanging from one corner of his pink mouth, face hard despite the soft blue glow of dawn.

"Fuck," Louis hisses as quietly as he can, easing out of Harry's grip. Harry groans once and rolls over, shifting his hips against the hard ground. Louis is completely mortified as he scoots down and out of the tent, desperate not to wake the younger man.

Once he's out and can feel his feet firmly planted on solid ground, Louis adjusts himself and scrubs a hand over his face.

Harry was just dreaming, of course, about who or what Louis isn't sure. Still, he feels completely ashamed and somewhat crushed.

After a moment taken to compose himself, Louis is thankful that Harry sleeps soundly enough to have not woken up to Louis grinding his arse on him like some shameless-

Well, anyway. Louis is thankful.

He starts the fire back up once his head is completely clear and his body has returned to its normal state of functioning. He boils a pot of water for tea and another pot for their last box of Blamco Mac and Cheese, stomach rumbling.

When Harry finally emerges from the tent, a dopey smile on his face, he takes up his spot next to Louis and fixes himself some tea. Louis does his best not to blush as he watches Harry pour hot water into his thermos and drop in a tea bag, his long fingers still slow and clumsy from disuse.

"Sleep okay?" Harry grumbles after his first sip. The deep rasp of his voice sends a small shiver down Louis' arms and leaves his fingers tingling. He clears his throat.

"Yep."

He snaps his mouth shut and works on stirring a packet of powdered cheese into the watery macaroni noodles.

"Good," Harry says after a moment, and when Louis glances up, Harry's staring into his tea with a mildly confused expression.

"Hungry?" Louis holds the finished product out towards Harry, who smiles broadly at the offer.

"Famished."

They eat quickly and companionably as Louis' awkwardness disappears. Louis tends to Harry's arm, then they pack up camp, excited to move forward. Harry is suddenly full of things he wants to say, filling every moment of their short trip with information about the townspeople, his friends, the many shops and monuments of the town. He gestures wildly when talking about the huge stone slabs that make up the protected exterior of the town, and adopts a look of adoration when he describes his favorite nightly haunt.

"Niall's pub is the best. Everyone there is amazing, and there's this old jukebox that lights up and plays rock and roll songs, and Niall makes this amazing drink with tequila and Nuka Cola Quantum that glows in the dark - you're going to love it!" Harry is nearly jumping with excitement.

"I'm sure I will," Louis laughs. "Haven't had a good mixed drink in ages. Last time I found a bottle that wasn't broken I had to drink it straight. All I had for a chaser was an old pack of Dandy Boy apples, and the rum was shite, but I swear I was dancing with a busted sentry bot by the end of the night."

Harry guffaws. "A sentry bot? If I was pissed and saw one of those I'd be running for my life!"

"Ah, they're all show, really. Gentle giants."

"Sure, gentle giants with rocket launchers and Gatling laser guns for arms."

They both burst into a peal of uncontrollable laughter. By the time Louis can stop laughing long enough to breathe, Harry's collapsed onto all fours, one hand clutching his stomach.

"Who knew," Louis says between gasps, "wizard technician Harry is afraid of a little military robot."

\--

When they finally reach Stone City, Louis actually drops his pack in the dirt with how stunning the vision is in front of him.

Tremendous stone slabs rise up like ancient ruins out of the reddish brown dirt, stark gray contrasting with the pale yellow-blue sky. Robots, actual functioning sentry bots and protectrons, are rolling back in forth in front of an enormous wrought iron gate, questioning travelers as they come and go.

Between the bars of the gate, Louis can see crowds of people walking, holding hands, chatting, laughing; children are tugging on their parent's hands, some of them breaking free and chasing each other. He even sees a dog dart between a man's legs, barking happily as a young woman runs hot on his heels.

The scent of freshly baked bread wafts out, causing Louis' toes to curl, and music - actual, live music - carries on the wind, just loud enough that Louis can pick out the sounds of a guitar and a violin.

He turns his head to Harry in astonishment, at a complete loss for words. If he had any shock left in him, he'd admit to being a bit surprised to see Harry staring back at him instead of the bustling mecca up ahead, a look of wonder and slight admiration on his face.

"It's incredible," Louis says, eyes darting over the smile that graces Harry's chapped lips, the sparkle in his eyes.

"Wait 'til you see the inside," Harry says, and grabs Louis' hand, pulling him forward.

He scoops up his bag and they approach an unoccupied protectron. Louis remembers the protectron from the vault, remembers the sound of its metal feet clanking as it made the rounds at night, the tinny voice it spoke with. The one here looks identical, although it is considerably more dirty, sun exposure evident from it's faded metal hull.

"Name and purpose," it asks monotonously.

"Harry Styles," Harry replies, "resident."

Little flashbulbs go off behind the glass dome of it's head as it records Harry's answer. "Welcome back to Stone City," it says, before turning to Louis.

"Name and purpose," it asks again.

"Er... Louis Tomlinson, visiting?"

The protectron whirrs for a moment as it considers the answer.

"Welcome to Stone City. Please enjoy your stay."

It turns away from Harry and Louis, and Harry begins to walk forward, but Louis grabs his arm and turns back to the protectron. "Wait!"

The protectron turns back towards Louis, lights blinking, waiting for an explanation.

"Is there any way you could tell me if a Johanna Tomlinson was here?" he pleads.

The robot considers.

"Classified information," it replies, before turning away again.

"You have to have security clearance to get info like that," Harry explains as Louis frustratedly tries to get the attention of the robot again. "They won't give it out without orders."

Louis sighs but nods, following Harry through the gate.

"Right," he says. "Worth a shot, anyway."

\--

The center of Stone City is even more overwhelming than Louis could have imagined. Once they break their way through the people bustling through the outer circle of traffic, Louis takes in the tremendous fountain in the center. It stands three stories tall, water spouting from the top and trickling down through two basins to the pool at the bottom. In the pool, two young boys are splashing each other while a scrawny cat lazes on the warm concrete ledge.

Louis' heart clenches at the sight, remembering his youngest siblings.

"Hello," he says to the boys as they approach. He can feel Harry's eyes on him, observing from a safe distance.

The bigger of the two boys - Louis imagines him to be the older brother - assesses him, while the younger boy hides behind him, peering from around his middle.

"Mum told us not to talk to strangers," the older boy eventually says. His deep brown eyes are hesitant and somewhat curious, but his brows are set with determination. His mother would be proud, Louis thinks.

"Your mum is right!" Louis replies. "Good on you."

He smiles and moves to turn back to Harry, but a shy voice stops him.

"'s that a Pip-Boy?" the younger boy asks.

"Jamal!" the older boy exclaims, moving to cover his younger brother's mouth with a single hand, visibly pruny from their time spent playing in the water.

"It is," Louis answers with a laugh, "though you should listen to your brother!"

"'ve never seen one before," Jamal says, breaking free from his older brother's grasp and rushing over to Louis. He grabs Louis' arm without hesitation, turning it over in his grip to get a better view of the device on his arm.

The older brother promptly dashes over and pulls Jamal's hands into his own.

"Sean!" the younger brother whines.

"It's alright," Louis says, raising his hands in placation.

Suddenly, he feels a warm presence behind him.

"You know," Harry's raspy voice supplies, "Louis has a little brother and sister about your age."

The older brother, Sean, considers this and releases Jamal's hands. Though still wary, he does step closer to Louis to get a better look at the Pip-Boy.

"Do they have these things, too?" Sean asks.

Louis shakes his head. "You don't get a Pip-Boy until you turn ten, when you grow up in a vault. Doris and Ernest are only five."

"Me, too!" Jamal says excitedly.

Sean scoffs. "I'm seven, _actually_."

Harry laughs behind Louis, and he turns to see Harry sitting on the ledge of the fountain, scratching the napping cat behind the ears. The cat looks too content for its own good, paws stretching forward as Harry rubs circles under its chin.

"That's Sprocket," Jamal says.

"Sprocket is a very pretty cat," Harry replies, stroking his hand down the cat's bowed back. "Is he yours?"

Jamal nods, splashing his way through the fountain towards Harry to discuss Sprocket further. Louis glances back towards Sean, whose gaze is still locked on the Pip-Boy around Louis' forearm.

"You wanna try it on?" Louis asks.

Sean barely contains his excitement when he nods, the grimace that had been plastered on his face finally giving way to a smile. Louis smiles back, undoing the clasps that keep the device attached to his arm and slipping it onto Sean's.

"This button here," he says, "is how you check your vitals."

He presses the button and Sean's pulse comes to life on the screen. The boy laughs, breathing out a quiet _cool_ as he watches the heart monitor on the screen. Louis notices the high level of radiation being displayed in the corner, his heart seizing just a bit. It's to be expected, he figures, growing up in the waste and playing in irradiated water all day.

He shows Sean a few more tricks, flicking on the radio and pulling up his map, but soon finds his eyes wandering over towards Harry. The younger man has Jamal sitting in his lap as he tells him a story, occasionally tickling his sides and causing the boy to fall into fits of giggles. Louis gets lost in the sight, imagines Harry holding the twins, one on each hip, imagines Harry with Daisy tossed over his shoulder, his skinny fingers braiding Lottie's hair.

When he hears Harry clear his throat, he realizes he's been staring. Harry's glassy green eyes are locked on his, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"I said, Jamal here thinks he met Daisy and Phoebe."

"Oh." Louis takes a moment for the words to be processed, then feels his heart leap. "Oh!"

"Sure," Sean says, still toying with the Pip-Boy, "Daisy and Phoebe, the twins!"

"Yes, twins!" Louis exclaims, placing his hands on Sean's shoulders. "How long has it been since you've seen them?"

"Not sure," Sean says, meeting Louis' gaze. He must sense the importance of the exchange, as he spends a few moments deep in thought, chewing his lip. "A few weeks? We played tag the night before they left, and Daisy gave me this." Sean holds out his arm, removing the Pip-Boy and revealing the twine bracelet around his wrist.

"Do you know where they were going?" Louis asks, taking the Pip-Boy back from Sean.

The boy shakes his head, as does Jamal when asked.

"Niall might know more," Harry says as he moves to stand by Louis. "If your mum was here, I'm sure Niall met her. He meets everyone that comes through."

"Can we go find him?" Louis asks.

"Of course," Harry says, grabbing Louis' hand with his own larger one and pulling him away. Louis feels a spark of electricity zip from his fingers to his toes. He hopes Harry can't feel his pulse spike through the place they're connected.

"Thanks for your help, boys!" Louis calls as Harry drags him away.

\--

Niall's pub is, like most things Louis has encountered recently, unlike anything he's ever seen.

As Harry drags him up scrap metal ramps and make-shift staircases to the upper levels of Stone City, hand still firmly holding his own, Louis watches the people and shops pass by with amazement, but his jaw drops when he sees the flickering neon lights and tattered green, orange and while flags decorating the entrance to The Lucky Tap. His feet come to a halt without his permission as the takes in the sight.

Harry turns and smiles at him. "You should see it at night."

Louis can't reply, merely nods and lets his eyes flit back and forth between Harry and the exterior of the pub.

Harry squeezes his hand once and lets go. "C'mon."

The inside of the pub is just as impressive, although not nearly as busy as Louis expected it to be. A few patrons are scattered about, perched on bar stools or tucked away on sofas in the corners of the room. Harry leads him to the bar that sticks out into the center of the room, forming a large "U" shape and allowing for three long rows of seating and table space.

Harry hops up onto a bar stool and pats the one beside him. Louis climbs up and lets his feet dangle, just barely too short to reach the ground. Still, he uses his arms to swivel the bar stool from side to side, casually taking in the rusted Nuka Cola signs on the walls, the twinkling fairy lights that are strung from the ceiling.

"What can I get you boys?" a deep, scratchy voice asks.

When Louis turns his head towards the sound, he barely manages to contain a gasp. Leaning over the bar top is an honest-to-God _ghoul_ , peeling flesh and sunken eye sockets and all. He's polishing off a whiskey glass, and has fixed Louis and Harry with an expectant, and mildly terrifying, gaze. Louis' hand instinctively flinches, his immediate reflex to go for his gun.

"Mark!" Harry blurts with a smile on his face, causing Louis' hand to relax.

"Long time, no see, stranger," the ghoul, _Mark_ , says as he stashes the whiskey glass behind the bar. "How are the wastes treating you these days?"

"Surprisingly well," Harry says, as he nods towards Louis. "Mark, this is my friend Louis. Louis, this is Mark."

Louis nearly swallows his own tongue as he nods once.

Mark lets out a short, gravely chuckle. " _Friend_ , huh?"

Louis looks over at Harry questioningly. The curly-haired boy's bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, and his cheeks are rosebud pink. Realization hits Louis like a ton of bricks, and he stammers out a greeting.

"Right, h-hello. Nice to meet you."

The ghoul grins, a tear in his cheek opening up to display what remains of the teeth that line his jaw.

"He's cute, Harry. What's the matter, mate? Never seen a zombie before?"

" _Mark_!" Harry squeaks, "He's from a vault." Louis feels his stomach churn as Mark gives him a once-over, making his assessments.

"Another vault dweller," he snorts. "Weird how that keeps happening."

"'ve seen plenty of ghouls," Louis manages to get out, "just none quite so... sentient."

Mark full on laughs at that. "Yeah, the ferals are a bit more of a handful."

"Mark," Harry interrupts, "is Niall in?"

The ghoul gives a brief nod before making his way to the back of the bar and disappearing through a swinging door. Moments later, he returns with a squirrely-eyed blond in tow.

"Lad! You're back!" the blond squeals as he comes around the front of the bar. Harry leaps off of his bar stool and is pulled into a ferocious hug, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Niall, it's good to see you."

"I had a feeling you'd be back soon," the man says, pulling back from the hug and giving Harry a once-over. "What'd ya bring me?"

Harry's face lights up as he begins searching the various pockets and purses strapped around his torso. His long fingers reach inside his breast pocket to pull out a small triangle of pink plastic.

"A pick?!" Niall exclaims as he grabs the item from Harry and turns it over in his own hand.

"Yep. Found it in an old music shop. Most of the stuff was damaged, but I've got some guitar string in my bag for you as well."

"Aces!" Niall pulls Harry into another bone-crushing hug, causing the taller man to huff out a strained breath. Louis clears his throat, somewhat worried for the safety of Harry's lungs.

"It seems like guitar string wasn't the only thing you picked up in the wasteland," Niall says as he lets go of Harry.

"That's actually why I'm here, why _we're_ here," Harry says, moving to stand next to Louis. Louis tries not to visibly react to Harry's close proximity.

"Niall, this is Louis. He's from a vault, and we think his family might've come through town recently. Have you met a woman-"

"Johanna," Louis supplies.

"Johanna, and she would've had six children with her," Harry finishes.

Louis holds his breath; he hopes she would have had six children with her. The possibility that they had somehow gotten separated from each other, or worse, is almost unbearable.

His fears are immediately quashed, however, when Niall nods enthusiastically.

"Sure! Jay and the kids were here for a few months, just left not long ago!" Niall pauses for a moment before his eyes widen. "You're her boy - you're her Louis!"

"Do you know where they went?" Louis asks, jumping off of his bar stool. He can feel Harry's fingers slide around his wrist, grounding him as his heart beats wildly in his chest.

Niall grins and steps forward to place his hand reassuringly on Louis' shoulder.

"Absolutely. Take a seat, I'll tell you everything."

\--

"So what you're saying," Louis muses after he takes a sip from his beer, "is that my mother came here, met a magical traveling merchant slash prince charming, and ran off to his fancy home in... what did you call it?"

"New London," Niall answers. He tips back the last of his own brew, a dark and heavy stout that Niall brews himself at the pub, claims it's an old Irish recipe. Louis thinks it looks disgusting.

"Dan's a nice man," Harry adds. "I've met him a couple of times between runs over the years."

Apparently, after escaping Vault 28 and arriving at Stone City, Louis' mother had met a traveling clothes merchant named Dan. While his home is in New London, his route regularly brings him to Stone City. Niall claims that Dan and Johanna had met after Dan got attacked by raiders on one of his runs: Johanna was quick to offer her services as a nurse, and that was that.

Louis tries not to feel betrayed. He's sure his mother hadn't given up on him, but it still stings. After all, her relationship with the overseer of Vault 28 had been a nightmare, and Louis can't imagine she'd be so quick to recover, so quick to move on.

Harry and Niall both seem to pick up on Louis' deflated attitude.

"She asked if I had seen you," Niall says softly. "She asked everyone who came to town. She was still looking for you up until the day she left."

"Maybe she thinks you made it down to New London?" Harry adds.

Niall nods. "There are mercenaries and trackers for hire in New London, too, more than there are here."

"Niall's right," Harry continues. "Since she couldn't find you herself, she might be trying to enlist someone to help."

Louis tries not to give in to the disappointment that tugs at his heart. After all, his family is alive, and he can't say for sure that they gave up on him. He looks up to meet Harry's gaze.

"Do you really think so? You think she's still looking?"

"Absolutely," Harry nods, face totally sincere. He raises his uninjured arm and wraps it around Louis' shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into his back. "We're gonna find her, and it's all gonna be alright."

At that, Louis finally releases some of the anxiety that's been stringing him up for the past six months. He looks down at his lap and grins, his lashes brushing against the top of his cheeks. _It's all gonna be alright_.

"Well," Niall interrupts, and when Louis looks up, he has a knowing grin on his face. "I'm sure you two must be exhausted. Louis, do you have a place to stay?"

The tone in his voice is obviously teasing, but Louis watches Harry take the bait. "He's staying with me," he says matter-of-factly, but Louis doesn't miss the slight twitch of his nose, as if he's trying to keep a straight face.

"Right," Niall says.

"Right," Louis says.

"Well make sure you stop in one more time before you go gallivanting off into the wastes again," Niall says, reaching over the bar to pull Harry into a loose hug. "And it was nice meeting you, Louis."

Louis sticks out his hand to shake with Niall, who naturally tugs Louis across the bar into a hug as well.

"Thank you," Louis says, hoping Niall picks up on the true gratitude in his voice.

"Not a problem. Be safe out there."

Niall releases Louis from the hug and sends them on their way, and the soft music from the jukebox follows them out into the brisk evening air.

The sun is just starting to set as Harry leads Louis further up the metal ramps of Stone City towards his home. When they reach the front door, Louis takes a moment to look down from the overlook onto the city below.

"This place is incredible," Louis says reverently. He feels Harry move to stand beside him and looks to him for a response.

The younger man's gaze is trapped on the slow-moving bustle below them, and the last rays of sunlight dance across his brow, through his hair, over the crest of his nose and the dip of his lips. Louis can't help but think he's glowing, inside and out, when he answers.

"This place is home."

Harry finally pulls his eyes up and meets Louis' gaze, giving him a shy smile.

"Now come on, let me show you residence number two."

\--

"You'd think I would stop feeling surprised at some point," Louis says as his fingers dance over the dozens of trinkets that cover every available surface of Harry's home.

All kinds of tech, from weapons to speakers to car parts and more, are scattered throughout the living room and give Harry's home a garage-like feel, but cozier. There are odd rectangular plates with letters and numbers pinned to the walls - something Louis knows he recognizes but can't place - and there's a fully functional record player sitting on a table in the corner.

There's also a cat, apparently.

"Dusty!" Harry croons, ignoring Louis' comment entirely as he picks up the black and white cat and cradles it close to his chest.

Louis snorts and sets his pack down on Harry's couch, continuing to let his eyes roam over Harry's quirky abode.

"Come say hi," Harry calls to him, and when Louis looks in his direction he's met with both Harry and Dusty's open stares.

"Hi, kitty," Louis says as he moves closer, holding his hand out in front of the cat's nose.

"He's nice," Harry insists. "Don't worry."

Louis tentatively scratches the top of Dusty's head. Dusty, overall, seems indifferent, content to hang in Harry's arms like a rag doll.

"What a charmer," Louis says sarcastically, though he's already giving in to the urge to pet the cat with both hands, cupping his furry face and scratching behind both ears.

"I've had him for ages," Harry says, finally putting the cat down and shedding off his baggage.

"He's cute," Louis says as he takes a seat. Dusty slinks away towards the kitchen, clearly not even a little bit flattered by Louis' comment.

Louis watches as Harry tosses the majority of his bags on the floor in a giant heap. The younger man doesn't bother unpacking, opting instead to flop down on the couch next to Louis.

"Shouldn't you be putting away all your treasures?"

"'M too tired," Harry answers, stretching his arms above his head before letting them fall at his sides.

"Me too," Louis says. "Where am I sleeping?"

Harry rolls his head to the side, too lazy to fully lift it off of his chest, and stares at Louis for a moment while he thinks. He looks like he's holding something back, and Louis' almost afraid to know what, but Harry shakes his head minutely and drags himself back up off the couch.

"You sleep here. I'll go grab some extra sheets and a pillow."

"What, I don't get the bed this time?" Louis jokes. Harry chuckles in reply.

"Consider it a favor. You don't have to walk all the way upstairs."

Soon, Harry's got the couch made up for Louis, and has tea brewing for the both of them. Louis feels comforted, if not a little out of place. There's a certain routine, domestic feel about the way they sit at the table drinking tea together, the way they take turns washing up in Harry's dingy yet functional bathroom, in the way they stand side-by-side brushing their teeth with baking soda paste, humming along to the radio. Still, it's not a complete picture of domesticity when Harry looks at Louis one last time for the night, smiling and giving him a gentle nod as he makes his way up stairs.

Louis can't help but feel like he should be going upstairs with him.

Still, the couch is comfortable, the city is quiet, and before he knows it, Louis is fast asleep.

\--

Louis wakes up to the most heavenly smell he's ever encountered in his 24 years on Earth.

His mouth is instantly salivating as he lurches up, propping himself up on his elbows and blinking his eyes as he adjusts to the light.

"Harry?"

"I'm in here," comes Harry's voice from the kitchen.

Louis scrambles off the couch, adjusting himself in the loose joggers and threadbare shirt Harry had lent him the night before. His stomach doesn't flip at the thought of waking up in Harry's clothes, it _doesn't_ , but it is certainly doing somersaults at the delicious smell coming from the other room.

"What is that smell?" Louis asks as he barges into the kitchen.

"Full English," Harry answers. "Almost done."

"Full English?"

"Full English." Harry pauses, waiting for a look of recognition to cross Louis' face. When it doesn't, he gasps. "You've never had a fry-up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, mate, but I'm ready to find out."

Harry chuckles and doles out a generous portion of various meats onto two plates. He brings the plates over to the table, where Louis promptly sits, and explains.

"Eggs," he points, "bacon. Sausage. Toas-"

"I know what toast is, Styles." Harry carries on anyway.

"Toast, butter, and milk." He finishes by pointing at a tall, cold glass of real, non-powdered milk. Louis could cry.

As soon as he digs in, he moans obscenely. He's never tasted anything so fresh or delicious in his life, having lived off packaged foods his entire life up until escaping the vault. Since then he's had a bit of real food here and there, but nothing compares to this.

" _Harry_ ," Louis outright groans, almost missing the way Harry chokes on his food. "This is incredible."

"I-I'm glad you like it," Harry gets out before shoveling a bite of eggs into his mouth. "The eggs are from the local chickens, everything else is from the Brahmin. We haven't had any pigs in a while, so the bacon's not as tender as-"

"It's perfect, Harry, oh _God_ ," Louis says as he crunches into his toast and slurps down some more milk. "Thank you so much."

Harry just lets out an almost pained whine in response, but Louis' too far gone with his breakfast to even care.

\--

At Louis' lack of suitable wardrobe, and Harry's lack of clothes that fit Louis, they decide a trip to the outfitter's is their best course of action in preparing to leave for New London.

"It's a long journey, Lou, and there's a lot more danger the further south you go. It's best to have something sturdier than jeans and a sweater."

"I don't have any _money_ , though."

"I can pay for it, it's fine."

"It's not fine! You shouldn't have to pay for me."

"It is fine! And anyway, you can pay me back someday. Dinner, shots, a back rub here or there-"

"Alright, you cheeky bastard. You win."

Louis tries not to let it eat him up, the way Harry just continues to give and give while he himself has nothing to offer. He's almost afraid that Harry's generosity will be all used up sooner or later, but with the way Harry looks at him with that sparkle in his eyes as he drags him down to the clothes shops, he finds it easy to stash that fear away.

"So as you've experienced, it's quite hot in the day, but at night it can get cold quick. I recommend a nice leather jacket, maybe even fur-lined, and leather trousers to go with it."

"Leather trousers? That sounds terribly uncomfortable." Louis reaches for the pair Harry's got held out towards him and frowns at the texture. "You actually wear these?"

"'ve got a pair back home," Harry answers bashfully. "They're a bit tight though."

Louis' mouth goes dry, but he laughs it off. "Yeah, let's stick to jeans then."

Soon enough Louis is outfitted and ready to go, with a gently-used black leather jacket, dark-wash denim jeans with only _one_ small hole in the left knee, and a few breathable cotton shirts to add into his small (but growing) inventory. He also leaves with a new leather bag, big enough to hold extra weapons and ammo, as well as a healthy supply of snacks and medical supplies, all courtesy of Harry.

"There's one more thing," Harry says before they leave the market area. He steers Louis towards a little shop, empty save for the noise of someone digging around in the back room, and goes behind the counter.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Louis asks. Before he can answer, a woman's voice chimes out from the back.

"Harry?"

"In here," Harry answers, a huge grin plastered to his face.

"Oh my god!" the voice shrieks, and a woman with a short blonde bob comes barreling out of the back and throws herself into Harry's open arms. "Harry!"

"Hi, Gems," Harry answers warmly, eyes closed, arms holding the woman close. Louis recognizes the name, _short for Gemma_ , he thinks, and is instantly nervous.

Gemma pulls out of Harry's embrace and flashes him a blinding smile before turning towards Louis.

"Who's this?"

"Gemma, this is my friend Louis." Harry turns towards Louis, and the warm and loving look on his face makes Louis' heart skip a beat. "Louis, this is my sister Gemma."

"Pleasure to meet you," Louis says politely, sticking his hand out.

Gemma takes a second to look him up and down, measuring him up, before taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Friend, huh?"

"Gemma!" Harry sighs and puts his face in his hands. Louis can feel his skin turn blotchy from his neck up. "You and Mark both..."

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Louis," Gemma says with a laugh. "Harry just doesn't normally bring boys home, is all."

"You talk about it like I've picked up a stray," Harry says, fully embarrassed. Louis isn't sure if he wants to disappear or keep watching Harry fidget - it's more endearing than it should be.

"I've heard a lot of good things about you," Louis interjects, trying to take control of the situation.

"I'm sure," Gemma says shamelessly. She turns back to Harry. "So what brings you back into town?"

"Can we talk over lunch, maybe?" Harry asks.

"Sure, let me just close up shop."

Harry and Louis step outside to let Gemma close up, but not before Harry grabs a case from behind the counter, long and rectangular.

"What's in the box?" Louis asks.

"It's a surprise," Harry teases, nudging Louis with his shoulder.

"I hate surprises," Louis grumbles, but he relents as Gemma joins them and they wander off to find food and explain their situation.

\--

"So you're gonna go all the way to New London?" Gemma asks, a look of concern on her face. The three of them are sat at a picnic-style table near a food stand, Harry and Louis on one side, Gemma across from them.

"We'll be fine," Harry answers, chewing on his iguana kebab, making a mess as he talks. Louis resists the urge to wipe the sauce from the corner of Harry's mouth with the pad of his thumb.

"If Dan has a regular route to New London, maybe we could tag along with another caravan?" Louis asks.

Gemma nods in agreement. "Trade caravans can be a little slow-moving, from what I hear, but there's definitely safety in numbers."

"Big crowds means a bigger target," Harry replies as he licks his fingers clean. "I'm not saying we couldn't tag along, but we don't want to put them more at risk any more than we want to put ourselves at risk. Sometimes it's quicker and safer to stay in a smaller group."

Harry must notice the look of concern on Louis' face, because he wipes his hands off and rests one palm on Louis' shoulder.

"Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

"Ugh." Gemma makes a mock-vomiting noise across from them.

"Alright," Louis laughs, focusing less on the way his heart is trying to beat out of his chest and more on Gemma's scrunched-up face. "I'm sure it'll be fine. And anyway, we make a pretty good team."

With that, Harry gives him a blinding smile and squeezes his shoulder once before letting go.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us, Gems?" Harry asks his sister.

"I couldn't stand to leave my Georgia behind for that long," Gemma answers sadly, and now it's Harry's turn to grimace.

"You two are so co-dependent, I swear. It's grossly cute."

Harry had explained at some point over the past few days that his sister's girlfriend, Georgia, was one of Stone City's most valued security officers. It's why Gemma never travels with him, he had said with a pout, but it's clear by the smile on Harry's face now that he's actually quite fond of them and their relationship.

"You know you love us," Gemma teases, pinching Harry's cheek. "She'll be sad she missed you, by the way."

"Lucky for her, I'll be back."

Louis watches Gemma and Harry tease each other a bit more, trying not to get wrapped up in his own envy, or to worry too much about their journey ahead. He misses his sisters fiercely, watching Harry and Gemma go on like this, but more than anything he's determined to make sure he gets Harry back to Gemma in one piece.

"Well, we need to get on the road," Harry finally says, pulling Louis out of his thoughts. Louis hadn't realized that Harry's hand had found its way to his knee, but he's missing the warmth of it as soon as Harry moves to stand.

"Be safe, baby brother," Gemma says when she pulls him into a hug.

"We will."

Gemma pulls back and without hesitation, drags Louis into a hug as well. It's different from hugging Harry or Niall; it feels familiar in a way he hasn't felt in months, and he has to actively keep himself from crumbling in her arms. Gemma must sense it, as she only holds him tighter.

"You be safe, too, alright? You've got some girls waiting to see their big brother again, yeah?"

Louis nods against Gemma's shoulder as she rubs his back briefly, and they both step apart.

"Thank you," Louis finally answers. "We'll do our best."

"Alright. Harry, you hurry back. Louis, I hope you find what you're looking for."

Harry and Louis both wave goodbye to Gemma and make their way back towards Harry's home, each a little misty-eyed and lost in their own thoughts.

By the time they get back to Harry's house, Louis is feeling a renewed sense of purpose in his chest. He nudges Harry as they walk through the front door, pulling the younger man back to reality.

"What else do we need?" Louis asks.

"There's just one more thing I wanted to give you," Harry answers with a warm smile.

"Harry!" Louis admonishes. "You've given me quite enough, I'd say."

"But it's for our journey!" Harry pleads, even going as far as to jut out his lower lip in a pout and fold his hands in front of him in a begging motion. "Just let me show you what it is."

"Fine," Louis relents with a laugh. "What is it?"

Harry takes the box he'd dragged back from Gemma's shop and places it on the coffee table in front of the couch, taking a seat and patting the couch next to him. Louis plops down and waits for the big reveal.

"Go on, then," he encourages.

"Okay, but before you look, just know that I rebuilt this myself with scavenged parts, so it didn't cost me any money."

"Harry."

"Okay."

Harry pops the latch on the side of the box and opens it up to reveal a laser rifle, shining as if it were brand new off the factory line. Louis gasps as he reaches for it, running his fingers down the barrel, lifting it out of the case.

"Harry, it's stunning!" He nearly squeaks when he feels how heavy and solid it is in his hands, so much more sturdy than all of the junked weapons he's come across during his time in the wastes.

"It's been modified to carry more cells at once, and it shoots three beams instead of just one," Harry explains, proud but a bit bashful.

Louis lets out a huff of laughter before placing the rifle down and throwing his arms around Harry's shoulders.

"Thank you. I don't deserve such a nice gift." Louis tries to be sure his voice doesn't shake, overwhelmed with gratitude at the kindness of someone who had quickly gone from stranger to friend.

"You do," Harry whispers, enclosing Louis in his arms as he returned the hug. Louis feels a bit suspended in time as Harry holds him, just listening to the sound of their breathing.

After a few moments, Harry breaks the silence.

"We should get going," he says into Louis' shoulder. Louis nods and they pull apart, no doubt leaving some things unsaid, but soon they've packed their bags, said goodbye to Dusty, and shut the door to Harry's home.

Whatever went unspoken between them hangs there, in the air, long after they're gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a sexually explicit scene! I debated on whether or not to include anything like this in the fic, but some people really enjoy this aspect of fanfiction so I just went for it. If that's not your thing, just skim the very tail end of this chapter. Thanks!

The journey to New London should take only a week, as Harry tells it, if they keep a quick pace. Unfortunately, there are few major settlements along the path they'll be taking, only scattered farms and shanty towns.

"Staying away from cities should mean fewer run-ins with raiders," Harry explains. "We'll have to camp most nights, but it won't be too bad."

Louis hums in agreement as they exit the iron gates of Stone City. The sun shines down relentlessly, but there's a cool breeze that keeps the air from feeling too stagnant. A protectron takes their names and wishes them safe travels in a tinny, robotic voice, and they're finally on their way.

Harry's convinced he knows the route well enough by memory, but he's still keen on checking the map on Louis' Pip-Boy. Louis wonders briefly if it's just an excuse for Harry to be physical with him, but finds he wouldn't mind either way. He's happy to finally be of use, even if it is just to help navigate.

As they walk along the trader's path, chatting amicably, Harry stops to point out something in the distance.

"It's a caravan," he says as Louis squints to make out the small shapes. Sure enough, it's a group of less than 10 men and a few pack-carrying Brahmin.

Harry and Louis continue to walk towards the caravan, anxious to see who it might be. Louis doesn't let himself hope that it's Dan. Once they're close enough, Harry gives a wave and shouts hello.

"James?" he asks, shading his eyes with a flat palm and long fingers.

"Harry!" the trader replies, finally close enough to recognize him. They step toward each other in an embrace, Harry laughing a bit as the trader gives him a visible squeeze. "How are you?"

"'M good," Harry answers, stepping out of James' arms. "This is my friend and travel partner, Louis."

"Good to meet you, Louis." The trader reaches out, and Louis sticks out his own hand in return. James gives him a good, warm handshake. "I'm James."

"Nice to meet you," Louis answers.

"Where are you two off to, then?" James asks, taking stock of Harry and Louis' packs and rolled-up sleeping bags.

"Erm," Harry clears his throat. "We're actually headed to New London."

James whistles long and low, but nods. "New London. Long trip for just a pair, but you're two spry young men. I imagine you'll travel quite quickly compared to this lazy bunch." He gestures towards the caravan behind him.

Harry laughs, and Louis feels his eyes crinkle from his own smile.

"We reckon we'll be alright with just the two of us," Louis says, unsure if he's trying to convince James or himself. "We're quite stealthy."

"Certainly," James replies, giving Louis a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Any news?" Harry asks.

"Not much good news, I'm afraid," James answers, a frown skewing his face. "Most settlements we stopped at have all reported slaver attacks. One town we visited on the way down was... well, there wasn't anyone there on the way back up."

"Jesus," Louis breathes. His heart pounds in his chest, his mind whirring with _what if_ 's.

"Have you heard anything from other traders?" Harry asks. Louis feels a warm hand slide over his shoulders, rough fingers curl over the back of his neck. He feels the constriction in his lungs ease up, just a bit.

"I don't think any others have run into too much trouble," James answers. "A few run-ins with raiders but nothing a well-armed merc can't handle."

A man standing not far behind James gives a laugh, and Louis looks up to see one of James' own hired mercenaries, slinging his automatic rifle over his shoulder. His all-black sunglasses and wide grin make him look completely carefree, as if none of the talk of slavers and raiders fazes him in the slightest.

"Yes, Reggie, we get it," James laughs. "You're a badass."

"You're absolutely correct," Reggie replies, and Louis feels himself grin just a bit.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're alright," Harry says. Louis turns and watches Harry as he talks, and though Harry keeps his eyes on James, he gives Louis' neck another squeeze.

When Louis looks back to James, the trader has a look on his face that Louis can't quite place, somewhere between curiosity and smugness.

"Of course," James says, and his face dissolves into a wide smile as Louis feels Harry's hand fall away. Harry and James step into each others arms once again. "You two be safe out there, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry answers, patting James' back and stepping away.

"Good to meet you, Louis." James gives him a clap on the shoulder.

"You too," Louis says.

Harry and Louis stand back and watch as the caravan starts up again, James leading the way, Brahmin trudging along slowly, Reggie and his crew scoping out the horizon.

"Let's go," Harry eventually says, and they start walking once more. When Louis looks over his shoulder, James and his caravan are just specks against the waste.

\--

Most of their afternoon passes in companionable silence, save a few comments about different critters they see or withered plants they pass. Louis can't help but be endeared by how reluctant Harry is to kill any animals. He claims he's "friendly" with most animals he encounters. Naturally, Louis teases him mercilessly.

"I'm serious, Lou. They really don't attack unless provoked."

"Harry, I've once had to outrun a literal army of mutant mole rats. I was just minding me own business, too."

Harry snorts, fingers coming up to hide his smile. "You must've done something to set them off."

"I did not!" Louis protests. Harry only laughs and shakes his head in response.

They carry on, the scenery around them remaining bland and brown. There's no sign of any civilization, just scattered billboards and fencing.

Eventually, Harry points out some remains up ahead as they come into view.

"There was a fire," he explains. "It wasn't too long ago, maybe within the last few years. It's mostly rubble now, but sometimes you come across a feral ghoul or two. We'll have to keep an eye out."

They walk quietly as they approach the crumbled remains of what might have once been a large shopping complex. The skeletal walls stretch out far beyond what Louis can see, but Harry guides them around the perimeter. They each keep a weapon drawn, Louis with his rifle and Harry with his shotgun.

Louis chances a look down at his Pip-Boy to check for signs of life, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he notices a reading, indicating something just up ahead.

"Harry," he hisses, and shoves his arm towards the other boy.

Harry glances at the screen, furrows his brows, and nods. He mouths a silent "follow me" and creeps forward.

Louis follows behind him, eyes peeled and heart pounding. He really doesn't fancy a ghoul encounter, or an encounter of any kind, honestly. Just as Harry guides them to the edge of a still-standing concrete wall, a loud _yelp_ rings out.

Harry immediately jumps straight back, knocking into Louis and sending them both crashing to the ground. Harry's gun goes flying out of his hand, skidding across the dirt, so Louis struggles to sit up and take aim, despite Harry's weight on top of him.

"Wait!" Harry shouts, and Louis takes in the creature in front of them.

It's a dog, brown and scraggly, slightly underfed and lanky. It stands silently, not a growl to be heard, and it makes no move to advance. While it doesn't seem particularly threatening, Louis' had enough bad experiences with feral dogs that he refuses to lower his weapon.

"Louis," Harry whispers as he slowly moves to roll off of Louis' legs, "don't shoot it. Let me try."

Louis is reluctant, but nods. He sincerely hopes Harry really is gifted with animals, the thought of this dog attacking Harry sending a shiver up his spine.

Harry sits forward, extending his hand slightly. "C'mere, puppy. It's okay, we won't hurt you."

The dog tilts its head slightly, then sticks its nose out for a sniff.

"That's it," Harry encourages, shuffling up so he's on his knees, bringing his hand even closer to the dog. Louis tries to swallow, though his mouth has suddenly gone dry. He watches closely over Harry's shoulder as the dog takes a hesitant step forward.

In the blink of an eye, the dog closes the distance and nuzzles up against Harry's hand.

Harry laughs victoriously, giving the dog a scratch behind the ears and cooing. Louis deflates a bit but lowers his rifle, exhaling loudly. "Christ."

"I told you, Lou. They love me." The dog steps forward and paws at Harry's folded legs, giving his chin a lick. "Easy, pup."

"Disgusting," Louis says grumpily. "You don't know where that thing's been."

"Oh, come on, Lou. It's..." Harry pulls back and gives the dog a once-over. " _He_ 's sweet."

The dog barks once and gives his tail a wag.

"He's wearing a collar," Louis points out, and Harry reaches for the tags that hang around the dog's neck.

"Dogmeat," Harry says with a laugh in his throat. "His name's Dogmeat."

"Ridiculous," Louis groans as Harry giggles and resumes giving Dogmeat a thorough rubdown.

"C'mon, he's friendly!" Harry says as he gets to his feet. Louis does the same, slinging his gun around his neck and straightening out his clothes. His heart jumps a bit when Harry takes his hand and drags him closer, lacing their fingers together. "Give him a shot."

Louis looks up at Harry, sees the hope shining behind his bright green eyes, and sighs in defeat.

"Alright."

Slowly, Louis sticks his free hand out for Dogmeat to sniff.

"Closer," Harry encourages, giving the hand he's captured a squeeze.

Louis takes another step forward and squats down, bringing his hand as close to the dog's nose as he dares.

Dogmeat gives him one sniff and promptly walks away.

"Oh, come on. Seriously?" Louis huffs and stands back up, yanking his hand away from Harry and folding his arms. Meanwhile, Harry's bent in two, body shaking with laughter.

Dogmeat goes back to nosing around Harry's ankles as the younger man laughs. Louis taps his foot impatiently, feeling spurned, but he can't feel too angry when Harry stands upright and faces him, dimples on full display.

"Oh, come off it," Louis says with a pout.

"I'm sorry," Harry says as he dabs at the corners of his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. "I told you, they like me. He'll come around to you, too."

"He won't," Louis says, "because there's no way he's coming with us."

"Lou!" Harry whines, and suddenly their roles are reversed. Harry's lip is stuck all the way out, his shoulders slumped and eyebrows raised high. "Please, why can't we take him?!"

"No way, Harry! We don't know anything about him, he might give us away if we get into trouble and we don't have any extra food to give him!"

"Louis!" Harry drags his name out in a long, desperate plea. He steps forward and takes both of Louis' hands in his own, bringing them toe-to-toe. Immediately Louis knows it won't end well for him.

"Harry."

"Louis," and suddenly Harry's voice is so soft, so desperate, he's truly begging and Louis certainly can't say no.

He allows himself to stare directly into Harry's eyes for just a moment, watching as they shine up with just a hint of unshed tears. They positively sparkle, and he sighs.

"Fine."

"Yay!" Harry shouts, and before he can blink, Louis is swept up in a bone-crushing hug. Harry lifts him clear off his feet and spins him once before setting him back down.

"Easy on that arm!" Louis goes for stern, but he's sure the way his voice cracks gives him away. He feels the blush rise on his cheeks as Harry turns to Dogmeat, giving him a pat on the head as he babbles on about how much fun they're going to have.

"You know, raising a dog is not all fun and games, Harold," Louis says as he clears his throat and wills his face to cool. "You'll have to feed and water it. Clean up after it if it pisses in the house. That sort of thing. Big responsibility," he hums.

"I know, Lou. I do have a cat, after all," he grins and nudges Louis' shoulder as they pick up all their gear and start walking once more. "And anyway, it can't be much harder than looking after you."

Louis rolls his eyes as Harry laughs to himself, and they're off once more.

\--

As the sun drifts lower and lower in the sky, they finally arrive at their first major landmark since leaving Stone City.

Rising straight out of the ground is a radio tower, a steel skeleton looming over a vast and bare stretch of wasteland. As they approach it, Louis feels impossibly small, shrinking under its magnificent height. It emits a gentle buzzing sound, and the dish at the top of the tower seems to sway when they look up at it.

"Have you been here before?" Louis asks when they're still a few hundred meters away.

Harry shakes his head. "I think we might be further west than I thought. I've never even seen this before."

"Should we try to go in?"

Harry stops and squints at the building nestled at the bottom of the tower. Dogmeat flops down on the ground at his feet.

"I can't think of any reason why not," Harry finally says after taking a moment to consider. "I don't know of any radio stations run by raiders. There are very few that actively broadcast around here."

Honestly, Louis hasn't listened to the radio much since meeting Harry. When he spent those months alone in the waste, he regularly sought out working frequencies on his Pip-Boy, just to hear someone talk. He realizes that his loss of interest in the radio since his first encounter with Harry isn't a coincidence; he hasn't felt lonely even for a minute since meeting this boy.

Louis tamps down the butterflies in his stomach. "Maybe, if they are broadcasting, we could send out a message to me mum to let her know I'm still looking?"

"Definitely," Harry says with a smile. "That's a brilliant idea."

"It'll be brilliant if we don't get shot or eaten by undead radio personalities," Louis says, though he blushes at Harry's compliment.

Harry guffaws at Louis' joke, covering his mouth to hide the sound. It makes Louis smile so big his eyes become slits over the swell of his cheeks.

"Well if there are any ghouls inside," Louis laughs, "I'm sure they heard that. We might as well go say hello."

"Sorry," Harry says bashfully, but Louis is quick to grab ahold of his hand and tug him forward.

"Let's go."

As they approach, Louis and Harry walking side-by-side with Dogmeat trailing behind, the details of the building become more clear. The brick building is in good condition, with no major holes and the windows all seemingly intact. The windows themselves are dusty, preventing Louis from seeing inside, but he quickly realizes there are certainly people occupying the building.

"That's close enough, boys," comes a voice from the rooftop. Harry and Louis both crane their heads up while simultaneously drawing their guns. For the first time since picking him up, Dogmeat growls and hunches low to the ground.

"Easy does it," the voice says. "No one needs to get hurt today."

Before Harry or Louis can speak, a woman's head appears over the ledge of the roof. She smiles down at them, rifle trained on Harry's head, golden curls spilling over her shoulder. The bandana tied around her head is as red as her lipstick, and her kohl-lined eyes glimmer in the rapidly-fading sunlight.

"We mean no harm," Harry finally gets out. Louis's surprised at how calm he sounds with a gun pointed right at him.

"State your business," the woman says coyly.

"We're just travelers, not looking for any trouble."

"That's not business," the woman says, face going a bit hard at the vague answer.

"I'm looking for my family," Louis pipes up for the first time. "I was hoping to find out if they had been through here, or if I could send out a message using your radio."

The woman snorts, and Louis thinks he hears her mumble _fat chance_ to herself, but she shrugs and speaks up again.

"Drop your weapons and wait there."

Without any further explanation, she vanishes back over the ledge and Louis and Harry are left alone. They both lower their weapons somewhat reluctantly, stash them in their packs, and wait. Louis figures somewhat hopefully that if the woman was going to shoot them, she would have done it before they ever saw her.

"Dogmeat," Harry says in a firm voice, addressing the still-growling dog. "Get down."

The dog immediately goes quiet and looks up at Harry as he sits on his hind end. Harry sends a smug glance Louis' way, and just as Louis is about to make a comment, the front door to the radio station opens.

"Hope you don't mind," the woman says with her gun raised, "but I'll need to pat you down. Set your packs on the ground and hold your arms out to your sides."

Harry and Louis comply, though Dogmeat gives a sharp bark, his hackles raising slightly.

"That thing can stay outside," the woman says as she approaches. Louis looks at Harry with raised eyebrows and half a smirk. Harry replies with a pout.

The woman comes to Louis first. She lowers her gun and reaches out with gloved hands, patting along his chest and digging in the pockets of his jacket. He takes in her attire: a black leather bodice covered in a zigzag pattern, tight black jeans, and black boots with a scarily high heel. That, on top of the shining bandolier strapped across her torso, gives her a truly intimidating appearance. Louis feels a sweat break out on his forehead as she moves over to Harry and repeats the process.

"Alright," she finally says. "Follow me."

She leads them inside after Harry gives Dogmeat a short command - _stay_ \- and guides them through a silent corridor. There are a handful of rooms along the way, all standing with open doors and empty tables and desks inside. The lights inside the building are soft white, giving a much cleaner appearance than Louis has seen in any place outside of the vault he grew up in.

The woman finally brings them to a halt in front of a door and turns to address them.

"The person you're wanting to talk to is Nick, though I'll warn you, he doesn't grant favors easily. He's agreed to speak with you, but I'll be watching, so no funny business."

Louis nods and sees Harry do the same out of the corner of his eye.

"In you go, then," the woman says, and opens the door.

Inside, a handful of people are milling about a large room with stacks of papers and various cords and wires. There are machines whirring and lights blinking all around, and while it's mostly quiet, Louis picks up on a single, muffled voice. It's alarmingly familiar.

Louis notices, then, that the back half of the room is separated from the rest by a wall with a giant glass window, revealing a man inside. He speaks into a shining silver microphone for a few moments before nodding to another man in the main part of the room, who presses a button. Louis sees the "on air" light above the big glass window go dim, and the man inside the sectioned-off part of the room steps out to meet them.

"Gentlemen," he says as he approaches Harry and Louis. "I'm-"

"Grimmy!" Louis suddenly remembers the voice and can't help how his jaw drops and his eyes go wide.

"In the flesh," Grimmy says, sticking his hand out for Louis to shake. "Always nice to meet a fan."

"Louis," Louis finally says, feeling a bit star-struck. "Louis Tomlinson."

Grimmy turns to Harry and offers his hand out for a shake. Louis can't help but notice that Harry's body is slightly more rigid than usual, but the younger man shakes Grimmy's hand anyway.

"Harry," he says somewhat tersely. Grimmy only laughs.

"Nick Grimshaw. Good to meet you lads." He turns his full smile back on Louis and puts a hand on his cocked hip. "How can I be of service?"

Louis quickly tries to reign in his fannish gawking, and not just for his own sake. "We're, uh," he tries.

"We're looking to send out an important message, if possible," Harry steps in.

"Important message?" Grimmy asks, turning his curious gaze to Harry.

"Right," Harry says, standing confident and cool. "My partner here, Louis, is trying to find his family. They've been separated for a while, but we have it on good faith that they've been through this area, and may have gone to New London. We're just trying to contact them to let them know we're looking for them, and that Louis is okay."

Harry then slides his hand around Louis' waist, tugging him a bit closer, and though they've touched plenty of times by now, Louis feels like his body is instantly in flames. He tries not to melt into the floor, given he's standing in front of the radio host who kept him sane through his months of loneliness, with Harry touching him and calling him his _partner_ and-

"I see," Grimmy chuckles, eyes flashing down to where Harry's hand is on Louis and then right back up. "I don't see why we couldn't make that happen."

Louis' heart jumps, excited at this unexpected opportunity to reach out to his mother, his siblings. He claps his hands in front of him and gives Nick his most appreciative smile.

"Thank you _so_ much, really, you have no idea how much this means to me."

"No need to thank me," Nick says, slapping one hand down on Louis' shoulder and the other on Harry's. "In fact, don't thank me. I don't give favors away for free. I'll need something in return. Let's walk," he says, steering them out of the room and back into the corridor they came from.

Nick leads them down the hallway and into a kitchen, where the woman from before is pouring herself a cup of tea.

"Boys, you've met Rita," he points to the woman. "Rita, this is Harry and his partner," he smiles around the word, "Louis."

"'lo," Louis says. Harry simply nods and looks at the floor, head turned away slightly from Louis. Louis could correct Nick, clarify that they're _travel_ partners, but he finds he doesn't really want to.

"Cup of tea?" Rita asks. Louis and Harry agree, and Nick invites them to take a seat at the kitchen table.

"So," Harry says, once they've all got tea and are sipping comfortably, "what do you need from us?"

"What do you have to offer?" Nick says with a smirk.

Louis looks to Harry with a raised brow. He can't really imagine they have anything of value that they could do without, or that would be needed at a radio station. They're tight on food as it is, and he doubts there is any task involving brawn that Rita couldn't handle.

"I'm good with technology?" Harry finally gets out after chewing on his own lip for a moment. "Is there anything broken you need fixed?"

"Not particularly," Nick answers. So much for that idea.

"We could perform some kind of service?" Harry asks, and Nick immediately titters.

"I don't think that would go over well with your boy here."

Harry immediately sputters and tries to correct his mistake, but before he can form a complete sentence, a thought pops into Louis' head.

"We could sing!" he says, and both Harry and Nick turn towards him with curiosity in their eyes. Nick seems intrigued, while Harry's mouth hangs open, his cheeks pink.

"We could what?" he chokes out.

"W-we could sing," Louis says again. "Grimmy, you've said you're tired of playing the same songs all the time. Harry and I could sing something for you to record, or at least sing a new version of a song that already exists?"

Louis racks his brain for a song that he hasn't heard on the radio, one that he could easily sing. Nothing immediately comes to mind, and he worries Nick will turn them down. He's surprised when Nick is quick to make a request.

"Actually," Nick says, setting his mug down on the table, "there is a song I'd like to hear. The record I was using's gone warped, and we never got a good backup. I'm not sure if you're familiar with the song called _I'm Making Believe_?"

Louis nods, but his face flames. It's a duet, a _love song_ , and Nick is asking him to sing it with Harry. He looks over at the younger boy, who's in a similar state, nodding and blushing, though his mouth is tilted with a smile.

"Do you have a band?" Louis asks, realizing they can't sing it without the accompaniment.

"Don't you worry about that," Nick says, and suddenly it's settled. Louis and Harry are going to sing a love song together. On the radio. For everyone in the wasteland to hear.

"Why don't you two relax, take some time to practice it, and meet me in an hour back in the studio? I'll get some things together and we'll record the performance."

Louis hears Harry whimper, but they both nod. Rita takes them to a separate room, one with a couch and a decent view of the setting sun, and leaves them to their own devices.

"So," Harry says eventually, after they've settled in on either end of the couch and sat through a few minutes of tense silence.

"So," Louis replies. "Singing."

It's like a dam breaks, and suddenly Harry is laughing, dropping his head in his hands and curling up over his knees. "This is ridiculous."

"Are you... I mean, can you sing?" Louis asks. He's tempted to rub Harry's back to calm him down, but Harry quickly sits up straight and runs a hand through his hair.

"I mean, I'm alright, I think." He shakes his head and meets Louis' gaze. "Can you?"

"Oi," Louis says in mock offense, splaying a hand over his own chest. "Of course I can. Voice of an angel, me mum always said."

They both laugh, and some of the tension drains from Harry's shoulders.

"It's been a while since I've heard the song," Harry admits, scooting a bit closer to Louis. "Care to refresh my memory then, angel?"

Louis snorts and thwacks Harry on the leg, but his stomach churns all the same. Whether it's from Harry jokingly calling him an angel or from the idea of singing for him, he's not sure.

"Alright, but don't make fun of me if I mess up."

\--

They somehow manage to pull the song together in under an hour. There's a fair amount of blushing involved, and copious amounts of teasing, but by the time Nick comes to fetch them, Louis feels like they're ready.

"How are we feelin', boys?" Nick says as he leads them back into the main recording room.

"Good, really good," Harry answers. Louis takes a moment to appreciate Harry's positivity, his infectious smile, the gentle curve of his lips. Louis nods in agreement - he's feeling pretty fucking good.

"Excellent," Nick says.

When they step inside, Louis notices they've cleared out space in the main part of the room for a band. The same techs and paper-pushers that roamed the room at their arrival are now seated with various instruments: one man with glasses and a paperboy cap sits behind a drum kit, a woman is perched on a piano bench, pressing the keys softly. The sound resonates throughout the room, making the hairs on Louis' arms stand at attention. He's never seen most of the instruments in real life - he'd imagined they had all been destroyed in the war - and he can't help but gawk.

"In here, boys," Nick calls as he ushers them into the section of the room that's separated by the glass window.

Louis walks in, feeling Harry close behind, and takes his place behind one of the microphone stands that's set up on the floor. Harry stands right next to him, nervously pushing his hair behind his ears and over his shoulder. Louis' noticed that whenever the younger man is nervous, he goes straight to playing with his hair.

Louis takes a step closer to Harry and grabs his hand, holding it for just a brief moment in an attempt to calm Harry's nerves.

Harry smiles back, bright yet soft, like a full moon, and Louis knows they'll be fine.

"Just wait for my cue," Nick says. "I'll give the message about your family first, and then we'll do the song. We'll keep the door to the main room open so you can hear the band."

"Sounds good," Louis says, and Nick gives a signal to a man on the other side of the booth. The room falls silent as Nick begins his introductions.

"Alright, ladies, gents, and mutants! Grimmy here with your evening news. To kick things off, I've got an important announcement to make. I repeat, listen closely, I've got an important announcement. This one's for the citizens of New London - specifically, the Tomlinson family. Tomlinsons, if you're out there, which we certainly hope you are, you're not alone. Louis is here, he's alive, and he's on his way to you. Once again, Tomlinsons of New London, your son is alive and he's coming for you, so don't give up hope!"

Louis' heart throbs in his chest, imagining his mother listening to the radio and hearing the news of his survival. He hopes she's listening, or at least someone she knows is listening and can relay the message. He doesn't have time to fret over it, though, as Nick quickly moves on.

"In other news, our lost Tomlinson boy is here with us in the studio, and has agreed to treat us to a special musical number, along with his companion, Mr. Styles. That's right, folks - new music, right here, right now, performed by our two darling travelers, Harry and Louis."

Louis gives Harry one more gentle nudge, raising his eyebrows, asking if he's ready. Harry smiles and nods.

"This ought to be a real treat, folks, so enjoy it. Singing live for us tonight, here are Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson with _I'm Making Believe_."

Nick gives a signal to the band, and the music starts up, slow and swinging. Louis counts along with the first few measures, and, taking a deep breath, starts in with the first few lines.

"I'm making believe that you're in my arms,  
though I know you're so far away.  
Making believe I'm talking to you,  
wish you could hear what I say."

Louis' eyes are closed as he keeps singing, swaying slightly to the music, and letting his voice carry. He feels heat coming from where Harry's standing, as if he can feel the younger boy watch him as he sings, but he keeps his own eyes shut tight, afraid he'll lose his place if he risks getting lost in Harry.

"I'll whisper goodnight,  
turn out the light and kiss my pillow,  
making believe it's you."

Louis finishes, finally letting his eyes open, and turns to watch Harry take the melody.

It's more than a bit shocking, hearing Harry's voice ring out so clear and so rich, so much more powerful than what they had practiced before. More so, Louis feels paralyzed as Harry's gaze pins him in place, as if Harry has him by the heart and is holding him still. His eyes get fixed on Harry's mouth, the way his pink lips form words - _dancing, lonely, kiss_ \- and he feels the urge to step closer, to kiss away whatever's making Harry sing so sadly and sweetly.

A short few bars of piano solo leave the two of them standing in silence, staring at each other with wide eyes and, in Louis' case at least, a thundering pulse. Harry smiles gently and looks down at his shoes, leaving Louis with the impossible urge to tilt his head back up. He reaches forward and places two fingers under Harry's chin, lifting with the slightest pressure, and gives Harry a wide smile.

His skin is hot to the touch, and he returns Louis' smile with such force that his dimple appears briefly before he starts singing once more.

Before Louis knows it, it's his time to rejoin Harry for the final verse. This time, he keeps his eyes wide open, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"And here in the gloom of my lonely room,  
we're dancing like we used to do," Louis sings

"Making believe is just another way of dreaming,  
so 'til my dreams come true," Harry answers, taking a step closer to Louis.

"I'll whisper goodnight,  
turn out the light,"

"Making believe it's you," they finish together, and the music dies out around them.

For a few moments, it's completely silent save for the pounding of Louis' heart in his head. Harry's eyes linger on Louis' parted lips for so long, Louis allows himself to wonder if he might kiss him, but the moment is shattered when Nick, the band, and the rest of the station's crew all break into applause.

"Absolutely _stunning_ ," Nick cries into his own microphone. Someone whistles, and Louis scrubs a hand over his face, shoulders shaking a bit with silent laughter. What the hell did he just do?

"Thank you," he hears Harry say, and he's quick to uncover his eyes and give a motion of thanks to the crew through the window.

The applause dies down, and Nick carries on with the program.

"Incredible performance, boys. We haven't had one like that in quite some time."

"It's our pleasure," Harry says, his voice sounding a tad winded.

"Great," Nick says. "Louis, our lost wanderer, is there anything you'd like to say, to your family or for the rest of our listeners, before you go?"

"Sure, thanks," Louis answers. "Thank you so much for having us, and for allowing us to send our - er, my message." He laughs nervously and scratches the back of his neck, but Harry looks on with an encouraging smile.

"Mum, if you're listening, I'm coming. I'm sorry it's taken so long, but we're on our way to New London, and I promise I'll find you and the girls. I'll be there soon."

Louis lets out a breath as Nick thanks them once more and then cuts to a recording, giving him the opportunity to see them out.

"I guess I should let strangers come sing for me more often, yeah?" Nick says with a smile.

"Thanks again," Harry says, "for uh, not shooting us on sight."

"And for the message," Louis adds. "It means so much to me."

"To us," Harry says warmly.

"You two are really something," Nick says with a laugh. Louis can't think of any reason to argue with that.

"Be safe out there, boys," Rita says, having materialized by the door.

"Where've you been, then?" Nick asks her.

"Outside playing with the dog, of course," Rita says, and Louis isn't even bothered by Harry's victorious laugh.

"Alright, alright," Nick says, grabbing Harry and Louis both and pulling them into a hug. "Be safe, and come back again if you get the chance."

"Of course," they both agree. Rita gives them back their weapons and their packs, and they step outside to a vibrant sunset and an enthusiastic dog.

"Thanks again," Louis says, and both Nick and Rita wave goodbye as Harry and Louis continue on their way.

\--

Louis and Harry barely speak as they walk away from the radio station. Harry comments that they can walk a few hours past dark to make up for the time they spent in the station, but says he'll keep his eyes peeled for a good place to camp.

The energy between them is so charged, Louis feels like he'd get shocked, were he to reach out and touch like he so badly wants to do.

Still, he follows along, wondering how he can best approach the situation without damaging his friendship with Harry.

 _What exactly is the situation,_ he wonders to himself as they walk through dusk, pale purple painting the sky. Is this love? Does Harry feel the same? What can be done, if Louis is going to New London to live, when Harry is ultimately going to return to Stone City? How does he explain this feeling to Harry, this feeling that their lives are twined like the threads of a rope, that he can't imagine a life without Harry now that he's in it?

He lets his thoughts stew as his eyes roam the darkened scenery, carefully avoiding looking at the man walking beside him, too worried to get drawn into a conversation before he's ready to talk.

Eventually they reach an overpass, and Harry asks if Louis is ready to stop for the night.

"Yeah," Louis answers, dropping his pack and surveying the space under the bridge. "I think this'll do fine."

"Good, good," Harry says, sounding nervous. "I'll put up the tent if you'd like to start a fire?"

"Sure."

Louis, quick as ever, gets a fire going and rummages through his pack for something to cook up. He settles on instant ramen noodles and begins boiling the water.

Harry comes over after setting up the tent and takes a seat beside Louis, Dogmeat not far behind. By that time, Louis has the noodles cooked and divvied up into two equal portions.

He slyly opens up a can of Cram and feeds it to the dog, much to Harry's delight.

"I knew you'd come around on the dog," Harry says between mouthfuls.

"Who says I've come around," Louis teases, picking up his own bowl and digging in.

"You love him," Harry jokes. "Isn't that right, Dogmeat?"

The dog perks his ears at the mention of his name, but carries on eating all the same.

Harry and Louis both laugh and finish their food, their conversation dying out just as fast as it had started.

When they've rinsed out their bowls and packed them away in their bags, Harry nods towards the tent.

"It's been a long day. Ready to sleep?"

"Please," Louis groans, stretching his arms up above his head as he yawns. "I feel like I could sleep for a whole week."

"Me too," Harry says, running a hand through his curls.

"Wait," Louis says as they approach the tent. "Should we take turns keeping watch?"

"Oh." Harry's face falls minutely. Clearly he was expecting the two of them to share the tent. Louis isn't sure he can be in that close of proximity to Harry after the day they've had without breaking the delicate, neutral atmosphere they've found themselves in.

Before Harry can answer, though, Dogmeat trots over to the tent, and barks twice. He spins once in a circle, seeking out the most comfortable position, before lying down and perking his ears.

"Well, someone looks comfortable," Louis comments.

"I think he's... guarding us?" Harry says with a bit of awe. "Maybe he's a guard dog?"

Dogmeat huffs as if in agreement.

Louis can't believe he's about to trust his life to a stray dog he's only just met, but when he looks at Harry, he feels like he's ready to just... roll with the punches. And after all, he's had pretty good luck with strays recently.

"Alright. It seems like we've got a guard dog, then."

Harry crawls into the tent first, stripping off his jacket, shirt, and jeans. Louis tries not to watch the curve of his back as he goes; he focuses on the fire, throwing on a few more logs to keep it going for a bit longer, hoping it'll keep them warm.

When he takes off his own jacket and jeans, leaving him in just pants and a thin vest, he crawls into the tent and lays down beside Harry. Apparently when he set up their tent, Harry had taken both of their sleeping bags and unzipped them so one acted as a mattress for them to sleep on, while the other acted as a blanket for them to lay under. The younger man is facing the wall of the tent, laying close to the edge of their makeshift bed, the top sleeping bag pulled up to his chin.

"Goodnight, Lou," Harry says as Louis makes himself comfortable. Harry is stiff beside him as if he's afraid to move. Louis can totally relate, going completely still once he slips off his Pip-Boy and finds a semi-comfortable position on his side under the unzipped sleeping bag.

"Goodnight, Haz."

The night suddenly seems so quiet, Louis can hear every pop of the fire, can hear each breath Harry takes and lets go. He swears he can hear the wind ruffling Dogmeat's fur. His heartbeat sounds unnaturally loud in his chest, to the point that he's certain Harry can hear it too.

He's convinced he'll never fall asleep, and just as he commits to an uncomfortable, sleepless night, he hears Harry roll over to face him. Slowly, Harry presses himself against Louis' back, warm and firm, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"Is this okay?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Louis' heart ricochets in his chest as he nods, and he feels Harry's breath against the back of his neck. It feels so good, his nerves feel like hot wires, but it's not enough.

Louis rolls over in Harry's arms and wraps his own arms around Harry's neck, holding him tight and tucking his face against Harry's chest. He breathes in Harry's smell, holding it in his lungs, feeling Harry's soft, warm skin against his cheek. He soaks up the heat of it, running his nose along the younger man's collarbone, letting his lips graze the exposed skin.

"Louis," Harry whispers, tilting his face down and gently grabbing Louis by the chin. He forces Louis to meet his gaze in the dark. Louis' heartbeat picks up triple time, watching the moonlight that penetrates the flimsy tent material dance in Harry's inky black eyes. His pupils are blown and his breath is coming out in little huffs.

Harry leans closer, slowly, with eyes wide and breath fanning across Louis' lips. Louis trembles, just barely, with want, with fear. He's never kissed anyone before, and he's never wanted anything so much in his life. He wants it so badly he can taste it.

He surges up, meeting Harry halfway, pressing their lips together and releasing the sigh he didn't know he was holding back. Harry's lips are chapped, dry and warm from countless days of walking in the sun, through the wasteland, but they're firm, and quickly become wet when Louis' own lips open up under Harry's. Louis feels like every cell in his body is burning, his head spinning as Harry's lips move faster.

His hands begin to move, trailing down Harry's chest, locking into a vice grip on Harry's sides. He holds the soft swell above each of Harry's hipbones, feels Harry cupping his face and caressing his neck. Harry's hands are huge, he realizes, as they rub gently along his jawline and sink into his hair. Louis can hardly take it all in; the strong yet gentle pry of Harry's tongue against his own, the electrifying press of Harry's thigh against his hardening cock. His head is ringing, the only thoughts in his mind a senseless string of _hard_ and _boy_ and _warm_ and _Harry_ , but he can't get enough. He's drowning in the best possible way.

Before he realizes what he's doing, he's pushing Harry flat on his back and swinging one leg over his hips, trapping him between his thighs. Harry's hands immediately roam down his back, sinking lower and lower until they slip underneath the waistband of Louis' pants. Louis groans into Harry's mouth, rocking his hips forward.

"Harry," he pleads quietly, eyes locked with Harry's when he pulls back. Harry's gaze is so clear, so open, and hot as a burning fire, even in the dark of the night.

"Are you sure you want this?" Harry asks.

Louis pauses, the heat in his groin dialed back if only for a moment, to consider the sight before him.

Harry, long curls, strong brow, sharp jaw, soft lips. He was a stranger, and his appearance in Louis' life was total happenstance. There are a million scenarios in which Louis never would have met him, never would have arrived at this moment, Harry hot and solid underneath him, bucking softly where their bodies touch. Louis can't help but feel like it's fate. This is where he's meant to be.

"I'm sure," he whispers before crashing his mouth into Harry's, giving himself up to the heat of their small, shared tent. It feels like freefalling, terrifying and exhilarating, but more than that, it feels right.

Harry moans into his mouth, and Louis swallows it up like he's starving. He's so focused on the feeling of Harry's lips against his own that he hardly notices the fingers toying with the elastic of his pants until they snap against his hips. He squeaks, but nods hastily when Harry begins to shimmy them down over his bum.

"Louis," Harry complains as he palms what's exposed of Louis' behind. "Off."

Louis leans back, far enough to rid himself of his pants and vest. Underneath him, Harry does the same. They both laugh at the awkwardness of it all, wriggling around in their tiny lean-to, seeing each other completely naked for the first time, but it doesn't stop them from colliding again as soon as they're able. Louis blankets himself over Harry, fingers splayed over his chest, legs slotted together. The friction is insane, absolutely unreal, and Louis can hardly believe it's actually happening.

"God," he whines every time Harry rubs against him. He feels big, and it would be unbelievably intimidating if it didn't feel so damn good.

"Hold on," Harry whispers. "Let me."

The younger man continues to press kisses to Louis' lips, his neck, but his hands roam further down until he's found a space between their bodies. He wraps one hand around Louis and pulls slowly, but firmly, causing Louis to clench his eyes shut and sob, the feeling unlike anything he's ever known.

"Fuck, that feels good." Louis can feel Harry smiling into the crook of his neck at his confession.

"So, I'm doing it right, then?" Harry teases.

"Shut up," Louis giggles, though it doesn't take much for Harry to get him moaning once more.

Louis can barely function, especially when Harry turns his wrist at just the right speed, or flicks his thumb over the head of his cock with just the right amount of pressure, but it doesn't stop him from trying. Between wet and noisy kisses, Louis fumbles for Harry's cock in the dark, small hands sliding over his hardened abs, through his coarse pubic hair. Harry hisses when he finally makes contact, his own hand stuttering as it works over Louis.

"Shit," Harry says, voice gravely and low. Louis pulls back enough to study Harry's face, the way his brows furrow, his darkened complexion. The sight has him overwhelmed with the urge to completely unravel him.

He strokes Harry experimentally, feeling the warm, smooth texture of his skin. He's only mildly self-conscious about his inexperience, but the little whimpers and hot breaths Harry releases into his neck keep him from getting too hung up on it. He feels Harry's hand start to move once more, sending a shot of electricity skittering up his spine, and from there on out it's a back and forth battle.

Each time Louis thinks he's found his focus, Harry steals it back with a stroke of his hand, or a swift bite at the junction of his shoulder and neck. Likewise, each time Harry gets the upper hand, Louis sends him spiraling back down into pleasure with a firm squeeze or a gentle tug of his hair. It's a race to the finish, but at this point, Louis doesn't really care who wins.

"I'm so close," Harry groans. When he meets Louis' eyes, his pupils are completely blown, his lids hooded and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. The sight is enough to send Louis over the edge, spilling into Harry's hand with a gasp and a whine.

"Harry," he whimpers as he rides it out, keeping his hand moving as much as he can. Fortunately, Harry follows soon after, jerking his hips up into the circle of Louis' fingers. He captures Louis' slack lips in a messy kiss until they've both come down.

Their panting eventually subsides, heaving chests slowing until they're comfortably twined together and on the brink of sleep. Louis is nestled against Harry's chest, and can feel Harry's fingers drawing lazy patterns on the back of his neck and shoulders. The simple movement keeps Louis' thoughts at bay, keep the panic of _what did we just do_ buried in the back of his mind. The sounds of the wasteland are drowned out by the beating of Harry's heart, and Louis' whole world is reduced to the narrow confines of their shared tent.

"Thank you," Louis mumbles eventually. It sounds lame, both in his head and once he's said it out loud, but it's all he can think of. He wants to explain, to thank Harry for everything he's done, not just for tonight. He wants to thank him for his trust, for his guidance and support. He wants to ask him, _what does this mean?_ , but he can't muster the energy.

Harry doesn't respond with words, clearly as close to sleep as Louis feels. Instead, he just leans down enough to leave a dry kiss on the top of Louis' head. It's the last thing Louis remembers before falling into a sated, dreamless sleep.

\--

When Louis wakes, the sun is barely rising, the inside of the tent softly lit in purple and bluish hues. Though the air is somewhat crisp, Louis is perfectly warm, pressed into Harry's side with his head on his chest.

Harry's still sleeping, which gives Louis the opportunity to wake his mind up and process the events of the night prior. Louis lets his eyes wash over Harry's clavicle, down the slope of his shoulder, over the soft swell of his arms. He can't see his face from where he's tucked under his chin, but the easy rise of his chest is rhythmically swaying them both. It's peaceful.

However, it doesn't keep Louis from the small and insistent panic that is lodged in his gut. Did he fuck everything up? Will it be awkward now? Will Harry abandon him, make him finish his quest alone? Or worse, will he pretend like it never happened, going back to the way they were before, leaving Louis a pining and lovesick mess for the rest of his adult li-

"I can hear you thinking," Harry's voice, low and syrupy and rumbling, interrupts Louis' downward spiral.

Harry shifts Louis in his arms, turning him on his side so Harry can slide down and bring them face to face.

Louis' sure he must look a mess, blush on his cheeks and hair going seven different ways. His heart is surprisingly calm, though. Harry's being so soft, looking at him with a sleepy smile and hazy eyes, and he hasn't bolted from the tent yet.

"Good morning," Louis whispers, a bit nervously, forcing himself to hold Harry's gaze.

"Good morning," Harry answers in kind, and before Louis can say anything else, Harry's taking his face in his hands - so warm, strong, comforting - and kissing him deep and slow.

Louis sighs into it; his fears drain away in an instant, and are quickly replaced by the warmest and brightest joy he's ever felt in his life.

He can't help but pull back and give Harry his widest grin.

"Good morning."

\--

When they exit the tent, Dogmeat is sleeping with his head resting on his folded paws - _guard dog, my arse_ , Louis says - and the fire is cold.

Louis doesn't bother restarting the fire, opting instead to pour two bowls of cereal for himself and Harry, while Harry dismantles the tent and packs up the rest of their gear.

"How far do you think we'll get today?" Louis asks idly between bites.

"Depends on how hard we push it," Harry answers, "though I doubt we'll make it to any settlements. It's probably better that way," he says after a pause.

Louis hums in agreement. They've been comfortable staying on their own so far, and haven't run into much trouble. Anyway, Louis feels a bit excited at spending the whole day alone with Harry.

He watches as the younger man slurps at the remaining milk in the bottom of his bowl, brows furrowed and eyes crossed. Louis lets out a giggle when Harry sets the bowl down and is left with a thin line of milk above his upper lip.

Harry smiles at the sound. "What?"

"You've got something," Louis says, leaning over into Harry's space, "just here."

He takes his thumb and swipes at Harry's lip. Louis figures he should have seen it coming, the way Harry instinctively opens his mouth and sucks Louis' thumb inside with a wicked grin, but Louis only blushes and pulls his thumb free. It exits Harry's mouth with a _pop_. Harry laughs when Louis thwacks him in the stomach.

"You tart," Louis admonishes.

"You like it," Harry says, clearly chuffed.

Well, he's not wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

Walking under the afternoon sun, Louis feels lighter than he's ever felt. It feels like floating, the way they pass through hilly terrain, wispy clouds overhead in an unnaturally blue sky. Harry talks animatedly all morning, his smile vibrant and eyes curious and bright.

At one point, as they walk, Harry takes Louis' hand in his own and doesn't let go.

Eventually, they come across a field with grass that is slightly less brown than usual, and they both see a sight they've never seen before. Grazing in a large herd are brightly colored sheep, all different shades of pink and yellow. Dogmeat's interest is immediately piqued. He takes off in a run and sends the sheep scattering, Harry and Louis laughing as they watch on.

"Wonder what they got into to turn them that color," Harry muses as he and Louis stop to sit.

"Maybe it's something they ate," Louis suggests.

They break out some food and have an early dinner, talking as they eat, and sitting close as they watch Dogmeat tire himself out. Eventually, he returns and lies down at Harry's side, letting the sheep resume their grazing.

One little lamb, pink as a rosy dawn, makes its way over to Harry as soon as Dogmeat falls asleep. Harry picks it up and holds it in his arms, cooing when it bleats softly.

"You and animals," Louis muses as he watches on. Harry grins, and it's a sight Louis doesn't think he could forget if he tried: Harry, soft curls blowing in the breeze, eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he nuzzles against the soft pink lamb in his arms.

"I could teach you," Harry encourages. "Come here."

Louis scoots closer and instinctively reaches to scratch the lamb behind the ears. As he pets the little lamb it bleats again, nosing at Louis' wrist.

"They can sense your feelings," Harry says to Louis in a quiet voice. "If you're afraid, they know it. If you're wary, they're wary. Just be confident and friendly, and they'll be friendly back."

Just as Harry finishes speaking, another lamb, this one a soft yellow, approaches them where they sit. Harry nods towards it, and Louis takes that as his cue to practice what Harry's said.

_Confident and friendly_ , Louis thinks, and picks up the lamb without hesitation. To his surprise, the lamb goes easily, legs folding up as he scoops it into his arms.

"See," Harry says. "Easy."

Louis laughs, giving the lamb in his arms a soft squeeze. He may still have to practice some more before Dogmeat warms up to him, and he's still not sure he's interested in meeting another mole rat ever again, but Harry's right. This is easy.

Then again, Harry seems to make everything in Louis' life easier.

They eventually get up and wander around the fields they've found themselves in. They stumble upon some unkempt Brahmin, not totally wild but not collared or tagged like the Brahmin in Stone City. There are signs of gardening in some places, rows of dirt waiting to be sowed with seed, but otherwise there are no signs of human life.

When they find themselves standing in front of an abandoned barn, they make the easy decision to make camp for the night. The sun is already starting to sink, and Louis will freely admit that the peaceful landscape of the farm makes him feel more secure than he usually does out here in the waste. They're cautious as they crack open the barn doors, checking inside for any hidden threats, but once they both agree that it's safe, they begin to unpack.

"We should sleep up in the loft," Louis says once he's climbed the latter. "There's still some hay up here, it'll be softer on your back."

"Well aren't you sweet, thinking of little ol' me," Harry teases.

"Mmm, I changed my mind. I'll take the loft, you can stay down there."

"Hey," Harry whines, drawing out the word and drooping his shoulders.

"I guess you can come up, but there's a price." Louis tries to maintain a very serious composure as Harry climbs the latter to meet him. He stops on the third rung from the top, waiting for permission to come all the way up. Louis kneels down so they're talking eye-to-eye.

"A price? Pray tell, how much do I have to pay?"

"Hmm," Louis taps his finger against his chin. He knows what he wants, but he wants to keep Harry on the line for just a bit longer. "What do you have to offer?"

"How about one of these?" Harry asks, and of course he's fucking read Louis' mind, picked apart his little game in less than the blink of an eye. He leans in and plants a soft, warm kiss on Louis' lips.

Louis' eyes flutter shut, but before he can respond, the warmth of Harry's lips is already gone.

"Just one?" he pouts. "I'm afraid access to the loft is a bit pricier than that. There's a 10-kiss admittance f-"

Harry doesn't let him finish, peppering kisses all over Louis' face. He worms his way up onto the floor of the loft, never letting up despite Louis' squealing and attempts to block his face with his hands.

"Alright, _alright_ ," he finally gets out, bringing Harry's slaughter to a halt, and they lay out their sleeping bags together, recreating their makeshift bed from the night before.

Though there's no way to bring Dogmeat up on the loft, he seems quite content to curl up in the middle of the barn floor. Harry finds a towel that's in relatively good shape and turns it into a makeshift dog bed, which Dogmeat takes to right away.

By the time the world is dark once more, Harry and Louis are cuddled up side-by-side under the sleeping bag, sharing stories in hushed voices and exchanging tender kisses.

"Where to tomorrow?" Louis asks, running his fingers through Harry's hair. It's a wicked little habit he's developed, but he can't seem to let it go. Especially not with the way Harry's eyes fall shut whenever he does it, face somewhere between bliss and serenity.

"We'll probably start to see more towns," he answers, words slurred as if he were on the brink of sleep. "We're getting closer."

"I should hope so," Louis laughs softly to himself. Resigning himself to sleep, he burrows in closer to Harry's side, slinging one arm around his waist and keeping his other hand buried in Harry's curls.

"Goodnight, love," Harry manages to whisper before sleep finally takes him.

Louis' heart jumps in his chest at the word, the _L_ word, although it seems life on the road with Harry is full of moments that leave him breathless and tight-chested. He thinks he maybe should get used to the way his fingertips tingle whenever Harry says and does these things that make him feel like the most important boy in the English wasteland. He _wants_ to get used to it, wants to spend so much time with this loving and silly and gentle boy that the word "love" becomes a regular fixture in his life.

For now, he falls asleep with a smile on his face and a warm boy in his arms. He can't complain.

\--

Louis wakes up alone.

The space beside him under the sleeping bag is cool, so Harry must've been gone for a while. He usually runs hot like a furnace.

In normal circumstances, Louis would be fine. He wouldn't panic. In normal circumstances, there are a million reasons why Harry might need to get out of bed in the middle of the night. Maybe he's taking a piss, maybe he's grabbing a midnight snack or a glass of water.

However, these are not normal circumstances, and Louis struggles to keep his fear in check when he calls out.

"Harry?"

Louis waits for an answer. All he hears is the wind outside, and what sounds like the creaking of the barn door. He can't help but think that Harry wouldn't have left it open if he went outside for anything other than an emergency. Fuck.

Louis gets up and rubs his eyes, hesitantly moving towards the ladder that leads down to the floor. When he peers over the edge, he notices that Dogmeat is gone too. Fuck, again. He slips into his boots and starts climbing down.

When he reaches the bottom, he heads quietly towards the barn door, which is only just cracked. The moon is shining bright outside, casting a long strip of white across the floor of the barn. Just as Louis steps into the light and reaches for the door, a lone howl pierces the otherwise silent night.

"Shit," Louis says, flinging the door open and running outside. "Harry!"

Harry's nowhere to be seen, but Dogmeat's howl rings out again. Louis spins around and tries to make out where it's coming from, but it seems to echo and bounce off of the hills. He doesn't see anything or anyone on the landscape, just the barn standing ominously behind him. He glances down to his Pip-Boy to check for signs of life, but it's no longer on his arm. He must've taken it off before bed last night, though he doesn't remember doing so.

When he spins around again, frantically shouting for Harry, he notices something he never thought he'd see again.

It's a Vault door.

There's a Vault door, standing open in the side of a hill, lights flashing above the entrance as if there's been an escape. Or maybe a break in. _Maybe Harry's gone inside the Vault_ , Louis thinks deliriously, and he takes off towards the door. Dogmeat howls again, and for the first time since waking, Louis thinks he hears Harry calling his name.

"I'm coming!" Louis shouts, running as hard as he can. His lungs are burning in his chest with how fast he runs over the hills, stumbling over dead grass and rocks. He keeps running, but the Vault seems so far away.

"Louis!" another voice cries, and Louis feels tears burning in his eyes when he recognizes it.

"Lottie!" he screams, "Lottie! Hold on!"

"Louis!" It's Harry again, sounding desperate, sounding hurt. "Louis! Please!"

"Harry!" Louis shouts, and with a gasping breath he rips open his eyes.

"Louis!" Harry whispers loudly, clutching Louis to his chest and rocking him back and forth. "It's okay, I'm here, it's alright."

Louis realizes with a start that he's sobbing, his fingernails digging into the palm of his hand. He was dreaming. It was just a dream. Or, a-

"Nightmare," he manages to gasp between sobs.

"I know, Louis. It's alright. I've got you. I won't ever let go."

Harry holds him, petting his hair and kissing his temple, rocking him long after the sobs die down into hiccupping breaths. It feels so good to be held by him, and to have him in his arms, that Louis doesn't want to let go. He can't let go, not after that.

When his breathing has calmed down enough to speak in full sentences, Harry asks him if he wants to talk about it. Louis nods his head and recounts the nightmare, still clinging to Harry, leaning his head against his chest.

"You were gone," he says. "You were gone and I couldn't find you. Then it sounded like you were in trouble, and so was my sister. I was running and searching but I couldn't find you. There was nothing I could do."

He shudders once, a few more tears escaping. He should be worried about how much of himself he's giving away in this moment. He's telling Harry the things that scare him most. Losing him is one of them.

Harry only continues to rub his back and sides, shushing him softly and laying more kisses on the top of his head.

"Lou, listen to me."

Louis looks up and wipes his eyes, finally able to make out Harry's features in the dark.

"I won't leave you. I promise. I'll do everything I can to stay by your side. Alright?"

Louis nods and crumples into Harry once more. He lets the fresh wave of tears come on, but he feels easier than he did moments ago. He knew, in the back of his mind, that Harry would never up and leave in the middle of the night. Still, it feels good to hear him say it.

When they finally lie back down, hands clasped between them, Louis notices something else.

"What's that sound?" he whispers. He feels Harry huff out a laugh beside him.

"It's the rain," Harry says as if that explains everything.

"It still rains out here?" Louis can't recall ever hearing or seeing rain since leaving the Vault. He didn't think it could still happen in an environment so damaged beyond repair.

"Mhm," Harry answers. "It's rare, but it does. Maybe once or twice a year, more so in the south. It's terrible for anyone caught out in it - it's all contaminated, and slightly acidic, of course - but it does sound nice."

Louis agrees. The pitter patter against the roof of the barn has his eyes falling shut before Harry even finishes speaking. They both fall asleep, tucked into each other, listening to the gentle sound of the rain.

\--

"Disgusting," Louis complains.

His boots are sticking in mud with every step he takes, and this is the third time his foot's completely slipped out, nearly causing him to fall flat on his face.

He rips his boot out from where it's lodged in the earth with a loud squelching sound, and steps back into it.

"Another unfortunate side effect of the rain," Harry comments.

Dogmeat is completely caked in mud from head to toe. He seems to be having the time of his life if the way he rolls around in it is any indication.

Though the rain had let up in the early morning, the ground had been turned into a slippery, filthy mess overnight. Louis suggested they stay on the roads to avoid it, but Harry insisted that their path took them elsewhere.

Louis huffs, and they carry on.

By midday, Louis spies a small village on the horizon, tucked between two rocky hills. Harry commends him on his eyesight, but reminds him to be cautious as they approach.

"We don't know who's living here, if anyone. So just be careful."

"You're the one who needs to be careful," Louis snorts. "Don't think I've forgotten about the time you went and got yourself mauled."

Harry side-eyes him, but cracks a smile.

"Feels like forever ago, doesn't it?"

Louis nods.

When they finally arrive at the gate of the village, both Harry and Louis are quick to draw their weapons. It seems like the village itself is just a handful of houses, with some fencing up to keep animals out, but they both would rather be safe than sorry. They don't even have the chance to look around, though, before a young girl comes barreling out towards them, shouting for help. Dogmeat freezes in place, paying close attention, but thankfully makes no move to attack.

"Christ," Louis hisses, "what do we do?"

"Just stay alert. It could be a trap."

"Right," Louis says. He really hopes nobody is using this small child as bait for a trap, but it's hard to say in the wasteland.

"Help! Please don't go!" the girl shouts as she finally meets them at the gated entrance. She can't be more than ten years old, her frame slight and her knobby knees visible through the holes in her tattered jeans. Her long, curly blonde hair is barely contained by braided pigtails, and her face looks unbelievably sunken in as she cries for them. "We need help!"

"Chelsea!" a voice shouts, and Harry and Louis immediately train their guns on a man who appears to be chasing after the little girl. Dogmeat snarls, hackles raising.

"Please, we won't survive if you don't help!" The girl ignores Louis' gun and the snarling dog and steps forward through the gate to tug at the hem of Louis' jacket. He tries to step back, but the girl clings to him.

"Please, don't shoot her!" the man begs as he edges closer, putting his hands in the air. "Chelsea, get back here!"

Louis' immediate thought is that the man intends to hurt the girl; maybe he's keeping her hostage or trying to kidnap her. Closer inspection of the man's face makes him think otherwise. He seems terrified, eyes glued to where Chelsea sticks to Louis' side.

"No!" the girl screams petulantly. "We need their help!"

Louis tries again to disentangle himself from the girl's grip, while Harry takes the diplomatic approach.

"What is she talking about," he asks the man, "and who are you?"

"I'm Andy," he answers, "and that's my sister, Chelsea. I swear, she doesn't know what she's doing, and she's useless around the house. She never cleans her room, doesn't even know how to do dishes. She'd make a terrible slave, please don't take her."

Louis can feel his mouth twist at the implication.

"We're not interested in taking slaves!" Louis shouts, finally prying the girl's fingers from his jacket. He attempts to shove her back towards her brother. It doesn't work; she merely stumbles a few steps and reaches for his jacket once more.

"We're just traveling," Harry explains. "Passing through. Why does your sister think you need help?"

Andy looks reluctant to answer, like he might be in trouble if he does. For the first time since arriving, Louis takes a moment to scan the other buildings to look for more inhabitants. He can see an older woman peering through her curtains in one house, and a few more children peeking through blinds in another.

"I think they've been attacked," Louis whispers.

"We have!" Chelsea screams, and immediately bursts into tears. She crumples at Louis' feet, and he finally lowers his weapon. The sight of crying little sisters is something he's too familiar with, and he can't resist the pull to bend over and scoop her up.

"There, there," he says, and Andy takes a step forward.

"Don't you dare hurt her," he hisses, face morphing from terrified to infuriated in an instant.

Harry lowers his gun, and answers for Louis. "He wouldn't dream of it."

"Dogmeat," Harry warns as the dog snaps at Andy. He stops growling and retreats to Harry's side, giving Andy the courage to retrieve his sister. He rushes over and takes Chelsea from Louis, cradling her in his arms as she cries. Harry and Louis share a look of both confusion and relief.

Andy shushes Chelsea and starts to walk back towards one of the houses in the village. After a few steps, he stops and turns to address Harry and Louis.

"If you want to know what happened, come with me."

\--

The inside of Andy's home is dark and musty. Candles cover almost every surface, and Louis notices straight away that there are no lamps or other light fixtures. The village must run without power.

Andy sets Chelsea down on the couch and covers her with a blanket, despite the general mugginess of the house. She passes out immediately, tear stains dried on her face.

"Let's go to the kitchen," Andy suggests gruffly. Louis and Harry follow, setting their packs down by the door.

Once they're all seated around the dining table, Andy explains their story.

"This village isn't what it once was. The original group that settled here was big enough to keep things going. There were farms, outfitters, gunsmiths - the works. When I was a kid, we never had problems getting food or water. We had electricity, or at least enough to run at night. But that all changed a few years ago."

Louis watches as Andy's mouth twists in a grimace. It's a look he feels like he can relate to, and he's sure Harry can as well. The world they live in, he's learned, is an unforgiving place.

"Once the raiders found us, they made our lives a living hell. At first, they just ran off with our supplies. They took food and ammo every time they came, claiming we owed it to them for not killing us. They busted our generators every time they came, so we stopped fixing them. We thought we were safe, as long as we could scrounge up enough to satisfy them, as long as we followed their rules."

"That didn't last long, I assume," Harry says, low, as if he's heard this story before.

"No," Andy says. "One day, just a few months ago, they started taking women. They took younger girls at first, teenagers and young adults, but eventually they stopped being so picky. They took..."

Andy's voice dies off, his eyes fall to where his hands are folded on the table top. Louis shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He know, he _knows_.

"Your mother," Harry finishes for Andy.

"Right." He clears his throat and carries on. "When we started fighting back, they took to slaughtering us. Every time they come through our village, most of us barely escape with our lives. Many don't."

"When was the last time they were here?" Harry asks.

"Just last week," Andy answers. As he talks, he reaches for three unlabeled brown glass bottles, cracking one open for himself and giving the other two to Louis and Harry. A stale, bready smell permeates the air, and Louis can't blame Andy for needing a drink as he continues. "Says they'll be back soon, and if we don't give up the remaining women in the town, they'll kill us all."

Louis' stomach churns, fingers twiddling with the bottle cap in his hand once he's opened his beer. He glances back towards the living room where Chelsea sleeps, no doubt fitfully, on the couch. He understands why she was so afraid, why Andy was so protective.

But he can't help wonder, if these raiders are taking women, who's to say they haven't gotten to _his_ sisters? To _his_ mother?

\--

Once Andy's shared his tale, he asks Louis and Harry about their own stories. He seems fascinated to hear of Stone City, and nods in understanding when Harry explains the passing of his own mother. Louis is a little more vague when he talks about himself, neglecting to mention having grown up in a Vault. Instead, he just tells Andy he's been separated from his family, and is planning to look for them in New London.

Eventually, their storytelling wakes Chelsea. She joins them in the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and climbing into Andy's lap. They steer the conversation to more child-appropriate topics, swapping stories about the various animals they've met in the wastes. Chelsea, imagination as active as any, begins to describe creatures that only the most creative child could think of. She's impressed when Louis relays the story of the pink and yellow sheep, eyes sparkling when he tells of how cotton-soft their fleece was. While Andy is skeptical, Chelsea fully believes him, giving him the sweetest smile and declaring her intent to see them someday, too.

The young girl babbles on and on about the fantastic beasts that thrive in her own little made-up world. While he's endeared by her carefree spirit and is happy to see her looking less afraid than before, it sends Louis back to the thoughts of his own sisters, makes him ache with the need to find them before it's too late.

"Can I talk to you outside, Harry?" Louis asks quietly as Chelsea continues to chatter with her brother.

Harry nods, and they stand to go back out the way they came.

When they're standing on the porch, door secured behind them, Louis breaks.

"Haz, if people are rounding up women in this area, they might have my family. They could have raided the caravans."

Harry nods, pulling at his lower lip with his index finger and thumb. "Maybe, although James said he didn't think the other traders had run into trouble."

"He said they had only heard of a few slaver attacks. What if one of them was on Dan's caravan?"

Harry doesn't answer, just looks at the ground.

"What?" Louis asks.

"Nothing," Harry answers without looking up.

Louis knows, right away, what Harry wants to say but won't. He wants to stay, to help the villagers. He can see it in the hunch of his shoulders, in the way he scuffs his boots against the wooden floor of the porch.

"Harry, I want to stay and help, too. I really do. But I need to find them. I need to find my mum, and my siblings. If they're captured, and I'm too late finding them, I'll never forgive myself."

"If we wait for the raiders to show up here and confront them, we might find them faster," Harry suggests.

"Do you really think we can stand up to a whole group of raiders? We don't know how many will show up, or when. They could show up in the middle of the night and kill everyone here!"

Louis is trying not to overreact. He really is. He just can't imagine a scenario in which staying ends up in the two of them walking away, uninjured, in time to find his family. He drops his arms and hangs his head, part in frustration, part in hopelessness. He doesn't want to abandon the village, but he doesn't want to die here, either.

Harry grabs Louis by the wrists and tugs him closer, so they're standing toe to toe. When Louis lifts his head, Harry stares at him a few moments before speaking.

"Louis," he finally says. "I know you're afraid."

Louis huffs.

"I know you're _worried_ , and I am too, but you know we can't just leave them here. They have no one."

Louis feels agreement on the tip of his tongue. He feels like he's going to give in, to stick around for the good fight.

Before he can speak, the echo of his nightmare, Lottie screaming for him in the dark, flashes across his brain.

"It's not our problem, Harry." He looks away when Harry's face falls. He doesn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes. The disappointment in his own heart is more guilt than he can handle as it is. "My family is my priority. I have to keep going."

Louis knows Harry can talk him out of this. Louis wants so badly to stay by Harry's side, but he's made up his mind, and he knows Harry's made up his. So before Harry can reply, he pulls his wrists free and turns around, stepping off the porch and heading towards the gate at a fast pace. He can hear Dogmeat whining, can feel eyes on him from all sides as he passes the houses neighboring Andy's.

"Louis!" Harry calls after him, but Louis doesn't turn around. "Louis, just wait!"

Louis keeps walking, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He thinks he hears Harry cursing, and listens for the sound of Harry's boots hitting the ground, but it never comes.

So be it.

Louis leaves the village without looking back, and heads south.

\--

He's only gone a handful kilometers before he has a breakdown.

He knew Harry would stick to his morals and defend the village, but he wanted for him to come after him so badly it feels like a physical wound in his chest.

Louis falls to his knees, dropping his head in his hands and letting out a muffled scream that sounds deafening in the silence of the wasteland. He feels like such an idiot. How could he leave Harry, after everything they've been through? After everything Harry did for him?

And how could Harry just watch him walk away?

His head is throbbing as he clutches at his face, thoughts bouncing around in his skull like rubber bullets. He hears Lottie's voice through the chaos, clear as day, but there's another voice, too. Lottie wasn't the only one screaming for his help in his nightmares.

"Harry," he breathes, voice shaking.

Harry needs Louis. Louis needs Harry. They're a team, _more_ than a team. Louis can't imagine being in a world without Harry, not anymore. He doesn't want to live without his touch, his smile, his kisses, his voice, the way his hair feels under his fingers, the way he looks at Louis when he first wakes.

Louis pushes himself up off of his knees and turns around.

He won't do this without Harry.

The sun is bright and hot on his skin as he makes his way back towards the village, but does nothing to slow him down. He moves at a fast pace, much faster than how he left, but he still tries to calculate how long he's been gone as he goes. I can't have been more than an hour, and he should be back in less than that.

Still, he wonders if Harry will be ready to forgive him for leaving. Maybe he should take his time, give Harry some time to think?

He shakes his head to himself as he ups his pace to a jog. He doesn't want to wait any longer.

He moves even faster when he hears the distant ringing of what is most definitely a gunshot.

\--

Louis approaches the village with as much stealth as he can, keeping his back pressed to the edge of a rocky hillside that rises up behind the cluster of rickety houses. From where he stands, he can see men and a few women running, some shooting, some hiding. He notices that even a few of the children have guns pointed at the raiders that run in a frenzy through the center of the village.

There's no sign of Harry, or Dogmeat, but Louis does see Andy give a swift kick to a scrawny raider with shockingly red hair and spikey pauldrons attached to his shoulders. The raider goes down, and Andy scrambles away.

Louis decides his best bet is to get a better vantage point. He may not have a sniper, but certainly the laser rifle Harry gave him has a good enough range to take out a few raiders by surprise.

Louis scrambles up to the top of the hill behind him, laying down flat and propping himself up on his elbows. He closes one eye and takes aim...

_Blam!_

He takes out a raider, a burly man who had been chasing a group of children with an oversized hammer. The raider crumples like a piece of wet paper, and the children look around cluelessly for the source of the laser fire.

Louis doesn't hesitate to take aim again. This time, he spies Dogmeat tugging on the pant leg of a woman who's grappling in a knife fight with one of the villagers. Louis takes her out easily, and Dogmeat gives a loud bark.

When Louis' eyes scan for another target, he finally, _finally_ sees Harry.

He's uninjured, toting his rifle, looking as beautiful as he ever did, and he's smiling, looking right at Louis.

Louis smiles back, and he hopes that he's close enough that Harry can see it. He makes to stand up, to wave, to run down the hill and into Harry's arms, but before he can, something catches his eye.

Behind Harry, something moves out of the shadows.

It's another raider.

He's got a sword, a _fucking_ sword, like he's some kind of ancient samurai or knight, and he's creeping towards Harry amidst the chaos.

Louis takes aim with his rifle and pulls the trigger.

It jams.

"Fuck!" Louis curses, trying to fiddle with the trigger. Nothing happens, and the raider is within swinging distance of Harry.

Louis throws the rifle down and reaches for his only other option: his lucky pistol. He takes aim, the distance be damned, and pulls the trigger.

Of course, of fucking course, the raider goes up in a pile of ash and smoke.

Harry turns around, looking down in shock, and Louis falls to the ground in relief. Harry's okay. They're both okay.

Louis hears a victorious roar coming from the villagers, and he realizes the fight must be over. They won.

After catching his breath, he slides his pistol back into the holster on his hip, grabs his pack, and runs towards the gate of the village as fast as his legs will carry him. Harry has the same idea, running full speed to meet him just as he passes through the gate.

Harry sweeps him up in his arms, whispering his name and spinning him in circles.

"Lou, _Lou_ ," he says, voice wobbling.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." Louis buries his face into Harry's neck and wraps his legs around Harry's waist. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'll never leave you again."

"I'm sorry," Harry says to the top of his head. "I should have come after you. I love you so much, Lou. I'm so glad you came back. I love you."

The combination of the adrenaline and Harry's declaration make Louis' head feel fuzzy, like his brain's short circuited. He squeezes Harry as tight as he can, voice caught in his throat.

"You'd think he was gone for days," Andy says jovially, coming up to clap Harry on the shoulder once he stops spinning them. "Thank you, boys, for helping us."

When Harry sets Louis down, Louis can't help but feel embarrassed at the way he'd left. "I'm sorry I ran out on you guys," he mutters to Andy.

"You came back, and you saved the day," Andy says. "No need to be sorry. That's quite a lucky shot you've got there."

"That's my Lucy," he says a little more confidently, patting at his side.

"Thank you!" a small, eager voice screams, and Louis is suddenly on his back with a face full of Chelsea.

He wraps his arms around her in a hug, attempting to calm her squirming. "You're welcome," he says through a laugh.

Dogmeat, in an even more unexpected turn of events, happily comes over to lap at Louis' face while he's down.

"Louis!" Harry laughs. "He likes you!"

"Get off, you mutt!" Louis laughs, tossing his head back and forth as Dogmeat peppers puppy kisses all over his nose and cheeks.

"I told you," Harry says fondly, and he plops down on top of Louis, right next to Chelsea.

"Dog pile!" she screams giddily.

"Dog pile!" Harry laughs with her, leaning down to smother Louis and push his face into his neck. Louis gives up on trying to push Dogmeat away and wraps one arm around Harry, one arm around Chelsea.

"Alright, you win," he laughs, and it feels like all of the stress and fear and sadness he felt only hours ago have blown away in the wind.

\--

Although the raiders have been taken care of, and the mood of the village is bright, there are still some wounds that need attending to, and Louis quickly offers up his services.

"Now, stay still, Ellie," he says. "It'll only hurt a little."

The little girl sticks out her bottom lip in a pout but doesn't move. She closes her eyes as Louis dabs some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball, and Louis laughs internally at her stubbornness. She reminds him of Fizzy.

"Okay, here we go," he says, and blots the scrapes on her knees with the cotton ball. Ellie winces, clenching her eyes shut even harder, but she doesn't move, and she doesn't cry. "Good girl."

"Alright, you're good to go," Louis says, giving Ellie a pat on the head. He turns to Harry and Andy where they're standing behind him in the kitchen, watching as he picks Ellie up off the table and sets her down. She looks up at Louis like she wants to say something, but thinks better of it and zips out the front door.

"I think that's the last of them, Haz," Louis says.

"Great!" Harry answers.

"Thank you for everything, Louis." Andy sticks his hand out for a shake, and Louis obliges.

"No problem at all, mate."

"Well, night will be here soon, so to thank you for all the two of you have done, we're happy to invite you to stay in the village tonight." He brandishes a set of house keys in one palm, offering them up to Louis.

"Really?" he asks. He knows he and Harry are both too tired to travel tonight, and he's honestly not in a rush to leave just yet. As it turns out, one of the raiders who attacked the village wasn't killed, and Louis is eager to see if Andy and his friends can get any information out of him.

"Absolutely," Andy replies. "Stay as long as you like."

Louis grins and takes the keys from his hand, then looks fondly at Harry. He knows it's silly, and it's just for a night, but Andy is handing them keys to a house. _Their_ house. He feels butterflies erupt in his belly, despite the tired ache in his bones.

"You ready, then?"

Harry nods and turns to Andy. "Show us the way."


	7. Chapter 7

Their borrowed home is small, but quaint. Andy helps them remove the dust covers from the couches and bed, stashing them away in a closet and leaving them in peace.

Harry sets about unpacking their gear, while Louis feeds Dogmeat and starts a fire in the fireplace. It's a bit questionable, clearly having not been used in at least a few years, but he gets it going in no time and sets a kettle on the coals for tea.

Though Andy mentioned that some of the villagers would begin working on fixing the generators as soon as possible, the house remains dark when the sun finally begins to set. Louis fishes a box of candles from his pack and sets them around the living room. Combined with the glow from the fire, the room feels homey and soft, warm in a way Louis never wants to forget.

When the tea's ready, he and Harry curl up on the couch together, mugs in their hands and hearts in their eyes. They share a small smile, Louis nestled under Harry's arm, feet tucked up underneath him.

Louis feels like they should talk, knows that they will eventually. But seeing Harry here, safe in front of him, when he could have easily lost him... well, he's not in much of a talking mood.

Harry uses one finger to trace Louis' jaw, and Louis shivers. He watches the firelight cast shadows across Harry's face, making his eyes shine.

"Harry," he says, voice so soft it's barely audible over the sound of the fire.

"Hmm?" Harry lets his fingers run down Louis' neck, over his shoulder and down his arm, taking Louis' hand in his own.

"I..."

He wants to say it. It's on the tip of his tongue, and he feels it in his heart, but Harry moves and Louis' voice gets caught in his throat. Harry moves just a little, just enough: he dips his head, licking his lips, dropping his gaze to Louis' mouth.

Louis complies easily, leaning up into the kiss. It's more gentle than anything, soft and slow and hazy. He feels the heat in his belly licking up into his chest like a flame, like the fire in the hearth has spread and engulfed his mind and his heart, leaving nothing but the taste of Harry's mouth.

Harry groans when Louis attempts to deepen the kiss, the shorter man struggling to straddle Harry's lap without spilling his tea. It causes Louis to giggle just a bit into the kiss.

"Hold on," he murmurs against Harry's lips, and bends to set both of their mugs on the floor.

"God," Harry moans, "Louis. Want you so b-"

Harry's sentence is interrupted by loud rumbling outside. Louis' heart skips a beat in his chest, but before he can scramble off of Harry's lap to investigate, the lights overhead flicker to life, buzzing with electricity from the generators the villagers must have repaired.

"Oh," Harry says, eyes wide as he looks around the room.

Louis collapses against Harry's chest in a deep laugh. _Jesus_ , he thinks, tears springing to his eyes as he laughs so hard, Harry has to hold him upright in his lap.

Harry laughs with him, rubbing his back and his sides. Louis idly wonders what he did to deserve him, why his luck seems to have changed so drastically since meeting him.

"C'mon," Harry eventually says. "Let's go to bed."

Louis doesn't move.

"Harry," he says when he looks up, meeting the younger man's confused stare.

"What is it, love?"

Louis grins. "We're rank. Can we take a shower?"

\--

Harry has a grin plastered to his face as he tugs Louis along towards the bathroom. He flicks the lights on as they go, dusty lamps and dingy yellow overheads illuminating their path. Once they're upstairs, they wipe down the tub and fiddle with the faucets until they finally get a hot shower going.

Louis steps in first, letting the warm water drench his hair and wash over his shoulders. He watches the dirt sluice off his body and swirl down the drain until his eyelashes are too heavy with droplets to hold open. It's nice, the steam relaxing his tense muscles and the grime falling off of him in layers, though he knows he'll have to take more RadAway within the next few days.

He pushes thoughts of radiated water out of his mind when Harry steps in behind him.

Louis scoots to the side and lets Harry stand under the water. The younger man sighs, closing his eyes and running his hands through his hair as it steadily gets soaked through. Louis can't help but admire the way the water travels a steady path between the sharp juts of his shoulder blades, down the curve of his clavicle and over his angled hip bones.

Louis grabs what soap they do have - something Harry had kept with him in his pack, though not often used while on the road - and lathers it between his hands. Harry visibly slumps when Louis begins to rub him down, helping the last of the dirt caked on his body come free.

"Feels nice," Harry murmurs, letting Louis' hands roam over his body.

"Good," Louis answers. "'ve never showered with anyone before, guess I'm just a natural."

Harry laughs and turns to face him, taking the bar of soap from his hands and returning the favor.

They fall back into silence, just listening to the water splash against the ceramic tub, until they both finish rinsing off.

Standing under the stream of water, Louis locks eyes with Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close.

"Haz."

Harry doesn't reply, just keeps his piercing green eyes trained on Louis'. Louis can feel heat blossoming on his cheeks, despite the hot water and steam, when he goes to speak.

"Kiss me."

Harry doesn't smile, but Louis can see the sparkle in his eyes as he inches closer. Harry's hands cradle his face as he pulls Louis in, their lips meeting in a searing kiss.

"Haz," Louis whispers again when their lips part. "Harry," he groans when Harry's hands skirt down his sides, grabbing at his hips and guiding him out of the shower.

When they finally collapse into bed, hands and mouths touching anywhere and everywhere, they take each other apart. Louis' never known a feeling like this, never felt connected inside and out to another person before, but he knows he'll never let it go. When he's crying out Harry's name, his hands clasped tight with Harry's and his voice choked off, with tears in the corners of his eyes, he knows he never ever wants to let Harry go.

\--

Louis wakes with Harry's head on his chest.

It's unlike any other morning he's ever had. He's in a soft bed (though the sheets are a bit musty) with a soft boy (though his stubble scratches just slightly across Louis' chest as he breathes) and he feels sated in a way he's never felt before.

The sun has just barely risen, though Louis can hear the morning bustle of the village through the open window. He runs his fingers through Harry's curls as he listens to children laughing and parents scolding.

He's not sure how much time passes before Harry wakes, but when he finally does, it's breathtaking. Louis can't imagine anything as beautiful or as green as Harry's eyes when he pries them open for the first time. He rubs them with the back of his index finger, casting off the last of his sleep, before he gives Louis a demure smile and a gentle kiss.

They take their time getting ready, packing, sharing shy but sure kisses as they orbit around each other.

When they step out of the house, ready to move forward with their journey, a caravan is waiting outside by the village gate.

"Harry! Louis!" Andy calls, waving them over.

They walk towards Andy and the men of the caravan, Dogmeat trotting along at Harry's side. Louis gives Chelsea a smile when he spots her across the way, playing with a group of other children.

"Good morning," Harry says as they approach.

"I think it is," Andy answers with a smile. "I have someone for you to meet. Harry, Louis, this is Liam, a food merchant from New London. Liam, this is Louis and Harry."

The merchant, Liam, gives Harry and Louis a deep grin, his soft brown eyes turning to crescent moons as his cheeks bubble up. Louis immediately gets the feeling he's a trustworthy guy.

"Good to meet you both," Liam says, first shaking Harry's hand, then Louis'.

"Nice to meet you, as well," Louis says.

"I hear I owe you some thanks," Liam says. Louis and Harry both knit their brows in confusion before he continues. "I haven't been able to trade here in quite some time because of the raiders. I just happened to run into one of the villagers on my way south this morning, and he mentioned it was safe to come thanks to some passing strangers."

"Oh," Harry blushes a bit, scratching the back of his head. "Well, we're happy to help."

"Absolutely," Louis agrees. Dogmeat barks happily beside them.

"Actually, I'm making my way back to New London currently. Andy mentioned you folks may be headed there as well?"

Louis takes a moment to observe the full caravan. Liam himself seems quite rugged, yet soft, like he's familiar with the wastes but perhaps keeps a family at home. The rest of the men and women standing behind him seem the same way, all friendly-looking but with an underlying fierceness. Louis also notices that, instead of Brahmin, Liam's packs and travel wares are carried by ghoulish steeds, all large and formidable, nearly glowing with overexposure. Liam's comrades don't seem to mind; many of them are mounted on the undead horses, sitting calmly in their saddles as they keep their eyes on the horizon.

"We are," Harry says, giving Louis a gentle nudge. Louis comes back to the conversation and nods.

"We'd be happy to have you along, if you'd like," Liam offers. His big brown eyes look hopeful as he waits for them to answer.

"I'd be alright with that," Louis says, turning to Harry to gauge his reaction. Harry, being the gentle soul he is, smiles so hard his dimple appears.

"That sounds great!"

"Wonderful," Andy pipes in. "Though we'll be sad to see you go, boys."

"We'll be sure to stop by next time we're passing through," Harry comments with a smile.

Louis doesn't think about the fact that he likely won't be passing through again if he really is reunited with his family in New London. He doesn't think about what Harry will do, what he'll choose.

He just smiles and shifts his bags off of his shoulders, letting Harry take the lead with loading up their gear onto one of the pack horses.

Andy takes the opportunity to pull Louis aside.

"We spoke to the raider we captured," he says solemnly, keeping his voice low as the rest of the villagers carry on about their days.

Louis nods. "What'd he say?"

"They didn't have any captives, according to him," Andy sighs. "We're not sure what to make of it. If he had anyone of ours, they've either been traded away, or..."

"Right." Louis tries not to look distressed. "Anything else?"

"We asked if they had hit any caravans recently." Andy pauses to place a hand on Louis' shoulder. "He said no."

It's a small relief, but somehow, Louis feels like he already knew. He thinks back to what Harry said, that Louis would know if something had gone wrong, if they weren't still out there. Still, he huffs out a breath, and pulls Andy into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Andy."

"You're welcome," Andy says, "and good luck."

Once they're ready to head out, Louis and Harry say goodbye to the villagers. Chelsea gives Louis an extra-tight hug, Harry a kiss on the cheek, and Dogmeat a proper belly rubdown before Andy picks her up and sets her on his shoulders. Louis and Harry are relegated to sharing one horse, because _of_ _course_ there's only one horse to spare. Harry helps Louis up first before sidling in behind him, wrapping his arms around Louis' waist.

"Are you ready?" Harry's voice rumbles in Louis' ear, breath tickling the back of his neck where Harry's leaned in so close. Harry's not just asking him if he's ready to leave, but if he's ready to find his family. It's been a long time coming, but he finally feels like they're in the home stretch.

"I am."

Harry gives his waist a squeeze and nods to Liam. The leader of the caravan smiles and nudges his horse forward, setting a quick pace for the rest of them to follow. Harry and Louis both wave to the villagers as they ride away.

Louis feels warm as he watches Andy and Chelsea for as long as he can. He's relieved to know they're safe, and can't imagine how he ever thought it was a good idea to leave them without fighting for their safety and freedom. He keeps his eyes glued to Chelsea, high up on Andy's shoulders, until they're just dots on the horizon.

"You did good back there," Harry whispers when Louis turns to face forward.

"You did too," he replies, though it goes without saying. It seems to Louis that everything Harry does is good, whether he intends to be good or not. "Now, let's go find my family."

\--

The one thing Louis learns as they ride south is that horses, while nice to look at in pictures and on film, are fucking terrifying to ride. Especially when they're of the ghoulish variety.

"Jesus!" Louis shrieks once he and Harry have dismounted at their campsite for the evening. The great beast they rode on from the village whinnies and huffs, stomping its great ghastly hooves as Louis passes by.

"Aw, Lou. He's not that bad," Harry laughs, coming over to pet the beast on the snout. The horse's flesh is missing in some places, much like the bartender at Niall's pub or the hundreds of feral ghouls Louis had seen in the wastes. Harry is careful to stick to petting the bits of the horse that still have fur.

"Disgusting," Louis remarks.

"You'll get there," Harry says with a wink.

The caravan campsite is bustling with activity as everyone stretches their legs, pitching tents in a circle and building a great bonfire right in the center. The sun still hangs low in the darkening blue sky, but everyone seems excited to sit and chat with the newest additions to their party.

Harry and Louis sit side by side at the fire once they've set up and unpacked, and are quickly approached by various members of Liam's convoy. They share their respective stories as the sun sinks, and by the time the stars peek out behind the clouds, there's a peaceful sort of camaraderie in the campsite.

Louis never fails to be surprised by how personable Harry can be, making strangers smile and laugh within moments of meeting them. While Louis himself feels a bit more guarded around strangers, Harry's steadying hand on the small of his back helps him to open up.

By the end of the night, Louis is reluctant to go to bed. He's in the middle of impersonating a certain radio host when Harry finally drags him away.

"We need rest, Lou," Harry says through a yawn.

"Me thighs are a bit sore," Louis says as they crawl through the flap of their tent. "It's nice, though, talking to these people. They're nice."

Harry pulls back the top layer of their makeshift bed and climbs in, Louis close behind.

"Well, we have plenty more time to talk to them. It should be another two days or so until we reach New London."

"We're so close," Louis says as he curls up behind Harry on his side, one arm slung around his waist. "I never actually believed I'd find them again."

Harry presses further back into Louis' chest, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers. He's already a bit sluggish, breath slowing as he wraps Louis' arm more firmly around his middle, and his voice is soft as silk when he speaks.

"You deserve it, Lou. You deserve to be happy."

Louis sighs and lays a kiss on Harry's curls, breathing in his sweet scent. He doesn't know if he deserves happiness, but he knows he already has it, with Harry here in his arms.

As Harry drifts to sleep, breath even and slow, Louis thinks. He allows himself to think about all the things he's ignored in the past week, how much Harry means to him, how dependent he's become upon his presence. He thinks about finally finding his mother, whether or not he can convince her to move back to Stone City, whether or not he could convince Harry to give up his friends, his home, his sister to stay with him in New London.

He honestly doesn't know what will happen. All he knows is that he's terrified of losing Harry, is terrified of how much he loves him. He wonders if it's healthy, how much he needs him. It can't possibly be. The thought of Harry living so far away has his stomach in knots. The thought of Harry dying makes Louis feel like nothing else in the world matters. Harry is his biggest weakness, he realizes. He doesn't know what to do.

When Louis finally drifts off, he's feeling like he's losing hope, but for all the wrong reasons. He's closer to finding his family than he's ever been before, but every day brings him closer to potentially losing Harry.

\--

The next day of travel is more of the same. Harry and Louis share a horse, following Liam along near the front of the caravan. They ride swiftly, covering more ground than they have since they started their journey.

Louis watches as the scenery becomes much more industrial. Remnants of old factories litter the skyline, and roads become much more frequent. Liam explains some of the history of the area as they pass through. Louis thinks he sounds quite proud of where he's from, and much like he can't wait to be home.

"Do you have someone waiting for you?" Louis asks when they stop to let their horses rest.

"A wife and son," he answers, eyes crinkling. "Haven't seen them in nearly a month. I can't wait, honestly."

Louis grins when he realizes he's opened the flood gates. From then on, Liam practically cannot stop talking about his family, entertaining Harry and Louis with stories of fatherhood. Much of it reminds Louis of his youngest siblings, and what it felt like helping to raise them. On top of that, Harry seems particularly engrossed in the stories, eyes shining every time he mentions his baby son.

"'ve always wanted kids," Louis hears Harry mumble to himself after Liam tells a particularly adorable story about his son's first words.

Louis' stomach flutters at the thought. He grabs onto Harry's hand and holds tight.

\--

Soon enough, they're just outside the limits of the city. They can even see the hazy glow of lights in the far distance once the sun has set and they've made camp.

"We're almost there," Harry says from his spot next to Louis by the fire.

"How far?" Louis asks.

"A few hours," Harry answers. "Honestly, we could probably walk and make it there tonight, but the city only allows entrance during the day. They're a bit more cautious than Stone City."

Louis nods. He wishes they could just go now and get it over with.

"Tomorrow," he whispers anyway.

"Tomorrow," Harry repeats, pulling Louis close and encouraging him to rest his head on his shoulder.

At least they have one more night together, if the future holds nothing else for them.

They eventually fall into bed, cuddling up and exchanging soft kisses in the dark. They're both too sore and tired from traveling to do anything more, although Louis tries to keep his eyes open for as long as he can. Though Harry's hands pull Louis closer the longer they kiss, sleep pulls just as insistently and eventually wins out.

When dawn breaks, Louis rises and prepares to face the day ahead of him.

\--

Arriving at the entrance to New London feels a bit more sinister than their arrival at Stone City.

The city itself is completely barricaded, tall perimeter walls of cement and iron spikes rising out of the ground like tightly-packed headstones. Fog lies heavy over their heads, obscuring the view of anything over the top of the outer walls. The gate to the city is shut and guarded by a dozen figures dressed head to toe in power armor and armed with rifles, Gatling lasers, and missile launchers.

Liam and his crew still seem relatively chipper, discussing amongst themselves their plans for their break from travel, sharing their excitement over seeing their loved ones and eating at their favorite haunts. Still, Louis can't shake his nerves and squeezes Harry's hand tightly as they approach a particularly stern-looking sentinel by the front gate.

As Liam, Harry, and the others show proof of identification to the many guards on patrol, the head sentinel questions Louis, taking notes and brandishing a visitor's ID for Louis to hold on to until he can acquire his own.

"Your business?" the guard says, voice tinny through his helmet's speaker.

"I'm here to find my family," Louis answers softly, nervously. He looks towards Harry, who is naturally chatting with another one of the guards as if they're old primary school chums. He internally wills Harry to come back to him, to hold his hand while he's interrogated, but the guard's voice interrupts his thoughts.

"How long do you intend to stay?"

Louis should have known, should have prepared an answer for a question like this, but he's completely dumbstruck. He has no idea. He can suddenly feel Harry's eyes on his face when he answers the guard.

"I'm not sure."

The guard doesn't respond, just scribbles a few notes hastily and shoves the temporary ID into Louis' hands.

"This visitor ID will expire in two weeks. You have until then to get your own personal identification card, or you will be removed from the city." The guard steps back to allow Louis through the gate. "I suggest you figure out the duration of your stay before then."

Louis nods and steps forward. Thankfully, Harry has gone back to chatting with his apparent friend just on the other side of the gate, but sticks his hand out for Louis to grab as he approaches.

"All set?" he asks with a gentle smile.

Louis nods, and Harry leads the way.

Once inside the gates, Louis takes in his surroundings. The aura of the city is certainly more dark, more industrial, than Stone City. The streets aren't bare, but there is less foot traffic, no children running or playing in sight. Louis also realizes the sheer size of the city, streets and buildings extending further than his eyes can see. The few people that pass them by seem friendly enough, but Louis can't help but feel turned off by the gray, stormy vibes of the city itself.

"Where is everyone?" Louis asks as Harry leads them down the sidewalk behind Liam's company.

"Most people are probably inside," Harry says, rubbing his thumb over Louis' knuckles. "During the war, this city was hit pretty hard. Not much green grows here, and then animals don't do too well either, so," he motions with his free hand, letting his sentence go unfinished.

"Not much reason to hang around outside, then," Louis says, and Harry nods. Louis briefly thinks of the children in Stone City playing in the fountain, but lets it go when Liam turns to speak to them.

"Alright, lads! We're off to unload at the shop, but if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to come find me."

"Thank you," Harry says warmly. Liam pulls them both into a hug.

"Louis," Liam says, patting his shoulder, "if you go to the common market, the other caravan traders should be there."

"Okay," Louis answers, feeling his heart kick in double time. "Thank you so much, Liam."

"No problem!" Liam waves cheerily, and then Harry and Louis are alone.

"To the common market, then?" Harry asks.

"Let's go," Louis replies.

Harry leads him through the streets of New London, pointing out certain landmarks as they pass. The further they venture into the city, the more lively the city becomes. The oppressive feeling Louis had by the front gate lets up considerably as they pass a bakery, a busy diner, a school. He keeps his eyes peeled for his own siblings as they pass by a group of primary school children playing hopscotch on a sidewalk, but Doris and Ernest are nowhere in sight. Still, his excitement ramps up when Harry announces their arrival at the common market.

The marketplace is huge, a monstrous dome-shaped building that is absolutely buzzing as they enter. Hundreds of shopkeepers are selling their wares at the booths that line the aisles, men and women shouting out prices of fabrics and imported fruits at passing customers, burly and travel-worn traders with dinged-up guns spread over their tabletops.

Louis isn't sure how they're meant to find Dan amongst all the chaos, but as it turns out, he doesn't have to try.

He barely catches his name being shrieked before he's bowled over, arms suddenly full of another human's body, his vision obscured by a shock of white-bright blonde hair.

"Louis!" the girl cries again, and Louis' eyes fill with tears.

"Lottie?"

His sister's arms have him pinned in a vice grip, her weight keeping him flat on the floor, but he manages to pull his arms free and tilts her head back so he can take a good look. She's crying, eyes red and lip quivering, but it's her. Despite the change in hair color, or the way her face has matured in the past months since he's seen her, he recognizes every inch of her. He's instantly choked up, wrapping his arms tight around her.

"My god," he says. "Lottie, I've missed you so fucking much."

Lottie can hardly speak through her tears, but he can feel her nod against his chest. Her hiccups are so loud in his ear that he almost misses the gentle _ahem_ from up above.

"Lottie," Louis says, pushing them both up into a sitting position, "we're making a scene."

"I don't care," the girl says, refusing to let go of her brother, but she startles when a large hand reaches out in front of her to help her stand.

She looks up at Harry, at first with confusion, then with awe. Louis laughs to himself as her cheeks turn pink.

"Lou, who's this?" Harry asks, charm turned all the way up as he helps Lottie to her feet.

"Harry," Louis says, still on the floor, "this is my sister, Charlotte."

Harry reaches down and takes both of Louis' hands in his, helping pull him to his feet. Only, once Louis is standing, Harry keeps one of his hands clasped in his own. Lottie's eyes immediately lock on their joined hands.

"Lottie, this is Harry."

"Harry?" she asks, seemingly dazed.

"Harry," Harry says with a grin, and once more sticks a hand out for her, this time to shake. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Lottie's eyes bug as Harry shakes her hand, her gaze locked on Louis. It's one of those looks, those _we need to speak immediately_ looks. Louis just laughs and pulls her into another bone-crushing hug.

"We thought you were dead," she whispers into his ear as they hug. "We thought we'd never see you again, until we heard your message."

"You heard that?" Louis asks, pulling back to look her in the eye.

"We heard it. Mum- oh god, I've got to take you to her right away!"

Without another word, Lottie is dragging Louis (and Harry, by proxy) along through the aisles of the market. She takes them out through the back towards a towering apartment complex just down the block.

Lottie shuffles them into an elevator and presses the button for the 17th floor, barely containing her excitement as she does so. Louis squeezes in close to Harry as the elevator begins to rise, relaxing just slightly when he feels the younger man's hand land on his waist.

"The kids are all home today," Lottie says as the elevator dings, "so be prepared for a lot of noise. Dan's here too, _god_ you haven't even met him yet. Oh, Louis."

"It's alright, Lottie," Louis soothes as they step out of the elevator and into the hall. "I'm here now."

Lottie sniffles once or twice and reaches for his hand. She squeezes it before stepping up to what is presumably his mother's apartment door. As she turns the knob, Louis can feel Harry fall away, giving him space to enter on his own.

_This is it_ , he thinks. _I've made it_.

Lottie enters first, and Louis can hear his mother's voice, wishing Lottie a good afternoon in her sweet, dulcet tones. His heart is in his throat as he steps in behind Lottie, and his eyes are already wet when he hears his mother gasp.

"Louis?"

His mother is a vision, practically angelic in the morning light that pours through the open living room windows, soft brown hair falling down her shoulders, illuminated as if there was a halo perched atop her head. She's sat on the couch, with Fizzy's head in her lap, long and delicate fingers combing through his younger sister's silky locks. She seems so warm, so happy and comfortable compared to how she looked in their final months in the vault, and he can hardly believe she's sitting here in front of him.

Fizzy sits upright, the twins and the babies fall silent from their various positions around the room.

"Mum," Louis whispers, and that's all it takes before he's across the room and falling into her arms.

He can distantly hear shouting, the twins calling his name, can somewhat feel Fizzy pressing close at his side, but his senses are overwhelmed with the smell of his mother's perfume, the feel of her arms holding him close, the sound of her voice softly murmuring in his ear. It's a sound he's desperately missed.

"Louis, my sweet boy." Her voice sends shivers down his spine as she holds him close. "It's alright, I'm here."

"I'm s-sorry," he stutters, suddenly aware of how hard he's crying. He can't be bothered to be embarrassed even though he knows Harry must be watching. He's just so relieved.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, baby."

Louis pulls back enough to look at his mother's face once more, to catalogue the changes in her face despite his tear-blurred vision. Her hands move to cradle his cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that have escaped. Louis wants to fall apart, wants to cry until there's nothing left after holding it in for so long, but the smile that spreads across his mother's face easily mends all the cracks in his heart.

"Louis," Fizzy whispers, and suddenly the rest of the room is coming back into focus at lightning speed.

"Fiz," Louis says, pulling her into a tight hug. The twins and the babies crowd around him as well, and he takes his time to hug and kiss each one of them. Ernest and Doris talk to him excitedly, their usual babbling much more coherent than it used to be. They've grown up so much, even in the few months they've been separated, that it feels like a lifetime since he last saw them in the Vault. Daisy and Phoebe hang off of each of his arms, talking over each other, trying to tell their older brother about everything he's missed.

"Girls," his mother admonishes as she stands up and takes Louis' hand. "There will be plenty of time for you to catch up."

"But mom-" Daisy and Phoebe say in unison.

"Louis," Jay says, ignoring the girls. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Louis hadn't even noticed at first, but now he spies a man standing off to the side, waiting with a kind smile and a hopeful yet nervous look in his eyes. Jay leads Louis to him and introduces him in her calmest, warmest tones.

"Louis, this is Dan."

He should be nervous, maybe even a little spiteful or jealous, but Louis can only let out a watery chuckle when he sticks out his hand for Dan to shake.

"It's good to finally meet you," Dan says as he takes Louis' hand.

"You too," Louis says, and doesn't hesitate to pull Dan into an embrace. He has a lot he wants to say, a lot to thank Dan for and a lot of questions to ask as well, but it can wait.

When he and Dan part, Louis catches Lottie's eye. She's standing next to Jay, but tilts her head towards the door with a knowing look. _Right_. Louis feels butterflies kicking in his abdomen when he addresses his mother.

"Mum, I have someone for you to meet, too."

"Oh?" She raises a brow and turns towards the front door where Harry has been hanging back, watching the family reunion with a gentle smile on his face.

"Yes," Louis says, moving to stand by Harry's side. He takes his hand in his own as he introduces him. "This is Harry. Harry, this is my mother."

Jay gives Harry a once-over, but her face is void of criticism. In fact, she seems to glow even brighter when she takes in their laced fingers, the way their bodies naturally angle towards each other. She steps forward, and all of the butterflies in Louis' belly dissipate when she pulls Harry into a warm hug.

"It's good to meet you, Harry."

"Harry, like _the_ Harry from the radio broadcast?" Daisy pipes up quizzically.

"Right," Louis says with a laugh. "That's the one."

"Hello, everyone," Harry says when Jay releases him.

"Harry, Louis," Jay says. "Sit down. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

And so it goes.

\--

Unsurprisingly, Louis' family takes to Harry instantly. It's as if he was born to be a part of them, born to tickle the twins and braid Lottie's hair and swap trail stories with Dan. As they learn of Jay and the family's adventure down south, Harry rotates between giving Louis' family his undivided attention and cuddling up to Louis' side, checking in with him and making sure everything's alright. It's comforting in the best way, to have the two parts of his life fitting so seamlessly together. There's Louis' role as son and brother, then there's his role as partner, and the two halves of him fit together so perfectly. He feels complete.

Eventually, the family heads down to the common market to get dinner at the twins insistence. Harry and Louis hold hands all the while, catching both adoring looks from Jay, Lottie, and Fizzy, and the occasional fake retching from Daisy and Phoebe.

It's there that they run into Liam once more. In his kind and tenderhearted way, he congratulates Louis and Harry on completing their journey, and gives Louis' mother and sisters gentle hugs as they're introduced.

"I'm so happy for you, Louis," he says, brown eyes sincere.

"Thanks, mate," Louis replies. "Thank you so much for helping us get here."

"It was my pleasure," Liam says. He gives a glance to Louis' family, eyes jumping from sister to sister. "You weren't kidding about having a whole brood of sisters. Do you have a place to stay?"

"I was planning on making up the sofa for you," Jay pipes in. "Might be a tight fit for both you and Harry, though."

"I've got a spare apartment, back from before I got married," Liam says with a grin.

"Really?" Harry asks.

"That does sound a bit more comfortable," Louis says. He looks to his mother. "Are you sure you don't need me to stay with you?"

"Oh, go on," Jay says, eyes knowing. "We'll be fine without you for a few hours, I reckon."

"Great, that's great." Louis smiles when Liam hands over the keys to his apartment. Liam gives Harry directions, knowing he's more familiar with the city than Louis. They part ways with Liam, and Louis once again feels especially lucky to have met so many wonderful people as of late.

Harry and Louis sit down to eat with Louis' family, then head off to gather their things and find Liam's place. It's nice to finally be alone together again, after spending the whole day in the presence of Louis' curious siblings and mother. They've spent hours talking and answering questions, so their walk to Liam's is spent mostly in silence, just the sound of their footsteps filling the space between them. Louis is sure to grip Harry's hand with his own, just to feel tethered as he takes in the scenery of the city, tall buildings towering over their heads.

Liam's apartment is in one of said towering buildings, an apartment complex that rises up into the haze that hangs over the city. The building itself has power, which Louis is grateful for when the elevator takes them up to the 12th floor. He can't imagine dragging their bags up that many flights of stairs after the long day they've had.

The apartment itself is a decent size, big enough for the pair of them to feel cozy without being cramped. The furniture is worn in, clearly used frequently during Liam's bachelor days, but the couch is comfortable when Louis flops onto it.

"Finally," he huffs. Harry only laughs as he carries their bags down the hall, into what Louis assumes is the bedroom, to unpack.

He manages to doze for a few moments until Harry comes and shakes him awake, pulling him up and dragging him to the bedroom. Louis only whines a bit, though he secretly revels in the feel of Harry's calloused hands in his, excited at the prospect of cuddling with Harry in a bed instead of under their sleeping bags.

Harry has to help Louis strip before they climb in bed, carefully pulling his shirt over his head, undoing his shoes and tugging off his trousers. His reverence wakes Louis up a bit; he fully opens his eyes to admire how gentle Harry is with him, and can't stop the fluttering in his stomach as they climb under the sheets and lie facing each other. Harry just looks at him with so much love, treats him with so much care, it's overwhelming and comforting all at the same time.

He's so content and full of love that he doesn't expect in when Harry speaks. 

"So, where do we go from here?"


End file.
